Memory of the victims of the ghost town (Luca)
On the other hand, Emery had woken up in a strange place, waking would not be the right term as he felt as light as if he was in a dream.
He looked around and things were bigger than usual, there was a chair next to the heavy wooden door, threadbare rugs on the stone floor, the wooden bed creaked at his slightest movements and the sheet that should have been white had a suspicious yellowish color, probably grimy, after all a white fabric even washed several times can turn yellow, especially if it is of low quality.
The wooden window was open and gray coarse fabric curtains fluttered in the summer morning wind, the smell of freshly baked bread mixed with produce from the local fair's spices and the smell of chicken and goat droppings created a heavy mixture of flavors and smells, strangely enough, Emery didn't feel bad about such scenery, his body felt light and there was nostalgia in his senses.