It’s an old room in an old house. At the top with a peak in the middle. You can’t even really stand up all the way. It’s hot up here and the carpet and desk are very old but very clean. I look out of a small window. It’s the window that in a horror movie you always see the trapped person pounding on trying to escape. In this old room I do not feel alone even though I am if you know what I mean. It’s like a hundred years of memories and some of them never left. I’m at this desk watching gigantic snowflakes slowly fall from out of a pitch black sky. A fluffy white blanket covering everything below. Just me and a mug of hot mocha and these quiet ghosts. I could find no better album that Without Sinking by Hilder Gudnadottir. This one is called Ascent.