Museum of Odd Things
The Historical center of Odd Things could be a exhibition hall not at all like any other, covered up absent in a little, modest corner of the world. It isn't as expansive as the Louver or as well-known as the Met, but individuals who happen upon it are never the same. The environment changes the minute you enter, loaded with riddle, history, and a sense of the interesting.
The introductory show? A backward-running clock that ticks uncannily easily, as in spite of the fact that time were unwinding. A bunch of shoes, each having a place to a individual who mysteriously vanished and whose story has never been solved, are set following to it. There's a bump with what shows up to be a protected whisper, but no one knows whose voice it ever held, an ancient outline that focuses to a put that doesn't exist, and a violin that plays itself on stormy evenings.
You come upon a typewriter more distant down the dull corridor that, notwithstanding of what you attempt to sort, as it were produces the truth. The names of those who have not however been born are recorded in an antiquated, frayed book. A single candle in a glass cabinet burns nonstop, its wax never softening. At that point there's the mirror, which shows a distinctive adaptation of you from a different time instead of your possess picture.
The Exhibition hall of Odd Things resists reason and rationale. A few claim that everything encompasses a covered up meaning that as it were those who ought to see it can see. Maybe it serves as a domestic for lost things. Or maybe, fair conceivably, it serves as a update that the world is remote stranger than we presently figure it out.