The secret room

I love the smell of the old classroom in the university, where I am teaching this summer. It reminds me of an old church with worn wood floors, and large arched gaping windows. I can see the trees outside, casting their windy shadows across the windows.

I like to imagine what it would have been like, in the turn-of-the-century. Dresses brushing across the floor, feet scrambling to take a seat behind the small wood desks.

I saw a stairway today that seemed to take me to some secret place. At the top of the stairway was a short hall leading to a room hidden away in half-darkness. I wonder what it was used for. It seems to be not in use now by the trail of dust that stops behind the door. This room haunts me because of its darkness, and because it sits behind a locked door in an abandoned hallway. I wish I had the key to let myself in.