As you enter the room, you notice that the door behind you does not close completely. Its locking mechanism seems to have rusted like a twenty year old car engine. The carpet covering the entire floor has a dark de-saturated red color. It’s so dusty that the room is filled with smoke when you walk across the room towards the white bordered window. A wooden border surrounds the glass, covered in a thin layer of ice in the shape of an enormous snowflake. The small hole your breath have pierced on the window does not reveal much of the outside apart from the snow covered hill on the left with a single dark green pine tree growing on top and the frozen shore on the right side. It’s a good thing that this house is not haunted by the cold winter, otherwise you’d be wearing three layers of coats just to stay alive. A loud noise escapes from the fireplace. The piece of wood seems to have broken into two pieces and collapsed on itself. When you sit down comfortably in the rocking chair next the roaring fire, the skin on your face and forearms are overwhelmed with warmth, similar to the sensation made by the sun on a hot summer day. The light coming from the flames lights up the objects around you: an old accordion placed on a bench next to a black and white television, a chair with curvy armrests and photographs of an old man holding a beaker framed in dark brown wood hanging on the wall next to the chimney. The middle of the chimney hangs a large picture of a tombstone that visibly reads: “Here lies Dr. Emmett Brown.”