Remnants

For this night's broadcast, Brian chooses the stripe of lavender and nightsky.  The flame of his candle lighted the way down the narrow passage to the tiny room.  This part of the house had long been shut up, Mrs. Parks told him, but still he had insisted upon seeing it.  He drew forth the key and unlocked the door, stepping into the chamber.  In the now-flickering light, the shrouded forms of furniture looked ghostly and macabre.  He caught his breath, gasping.  How could this be?  The scent of lilacs bloomed in the room, filling it to every corner.  It was as if a vase full of the flowers stood on every surface, every table and mantelpiece.  He reached out, grabbed the bedpost for support, and tried to steady his emotions.  It was impossible, he knew.