One more empty house, no one left inside to warm the rooms. Just tatty wallpaper hanging from every wall as time takes its toll. No one to open the moth eaten curtains to let in the light. Just empty bottles. Bottles in every room. Whiskey. Personal possessions still in place. Alfred lived here. We know this from the christmas card left on a tired sideboard in the tiny living room. 

Moving around inside was tough. The stairway being so cramped just lugging a tripod up was difficult enough let alone a massive camera bag. Ceilings too low for comfortable living, or comfortable photography. 

Each room a chaotic mess of remnants of a person's life. Scattered over floors souvenirs of existence. But now no one wants them. Alfred left and no one remained to keep the house clean. 

This house was a good example of previous visits by people photographing the house. Staged 'sets' in every room. Alfred's jacket hung up over the fire place. Even for a chap so inclined to drink whiskey I doubt Alfred wold have hung it there. Should I undo the sets? I couldn't be bothered so photographed it just as I found it. 

Alfred's house. Chaotic. Damp. Too cramped. Perfect for photography.