Ruminations

One only learns of Ruminations by word of mouth; its drab and weather-worn exterior bears no signage. Its clientele are often the “poetic” sort who are undeterred by rumors of the boarding house being haunted.

Upon entering, it takes a moment for the eyes to adjust to the darkness, for the drapes are drawn and admit no outside light.

Roderick, the spindly caretaker greets you at the door in hushed tones. He bids you keep your voice down because Ophelia, the proprietress, is recuperating in the next room from what he refers to as a bout of hysteria.

He holds a candelabra aloft as he ushers you through the house, its light illuminating motes of dust floating in the air. As he walks, Roderick quietly lists meal times and the table d’hote—mostly consisting of a small variety of porridge and gruel.

The room he shows you is small, claustrophobic. It is large enough for but one straw pallet; it is unadorned save for yellow wallpaper. There is no window, and yet you can feel a draft. However it does have a door that you can lock from within.

From a neighboring room, you can hear the muffled sounds of someone crying.

River Quarter