go home?

where would you like to go?

(eepy ominous prologue incoming)
The grand, heavy doors of the museum open as soon as you step up to them, but you don't mind. A friend of a friend told you about this old place, and you like the supernatural anyways. It's dark, and dust flies around in the air, but through the windows sunlight penetrates through and highlights three corriodors. There doesn't seem to be anything else in the lobby, besides cobweb-ridden furniture cast away to the dark marble walls. You walk in, dust swirling from the ground with every footfall you make. Suddenly, the heavy doors swing closed with an ominous, echoing boom, and you nearly jump out of your skin. But a sudden wave of calm comes over you. The only way to go now is forward.

the arts

the physical