This room had been my prison for as long as I could remember now. The walls are painted a deep burgundy and several frames are neatly arranged covering most of them. Each contains a keepsake from my life’s achievements. A newspaper clipping here, a picture of my family on vacation in Montego Bay, another of when we went to Barcelona. There are also several ticket stubs from rock concerts we attended across the country. Two shelves also sit to the left of the door frame, each covered in trophie. . .
