The door creaks a little as you open it; you have to push a bit, and find that this is because a small pile of cruft has fallen down behind it. But no booby-traps spring out at you.
The room is small and a trifle dim; clearly the workspace of a closet claustrophile. It is cluttered almost beyond belief, with books and papers sitting around everywhere. There is a computer on the desk, turned on, with Emacs running on it, and a Netscape window in the background, pointing to the household homepage. Sitting next to the computer is a folder labelled "Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Anything". On top of the computer is a copy of the Internet Weather Report, underneath a little Windows CE Handheld PC.
On the back wall of the room is a small writing table. A printout is sitting on it, marked "Play Materials".
On the floor, there is a pile of vendor catalogs; they look rather dog-eared, but have the distinct look of books that occasionally get used heavily, then tossed back in the corner, rather than used frequently and reverently. On top of them, though, is a big-well-used magazine of reviews of Winsock applications, invaluable to the Windows developer.