The room is old... too warm... probably in my grandmother's attic. I think it's an attic because the corners of the ceilings are cut off by erratic 45 degree slants. The wallpaper is a wide pinstripe of pink and white, faded from years of sun beating.

The trees are thick, evergreen variety. It's dark in the forest, but calm and peaceful - very lush. It's also a bit cooler and the air is very clean.

The trail, oddly enough, is a faint one barely visible as a trodden down path through a wheat field. It's sometimes difficult to see underfoot, but easy to discern by looking a few yards ahead.

The water is clean, clear, icy-cold, and flows around many small rocks and moss laden outcroppings. It's been centuries in the making - probably glacial leftovers.

It's been here for decades. Very rusted and no longer of any use.

It is an old key -- also rusted a bit. Not a key to a modern day door, but not as old or blunt as a medieval dungeon key. Somewhere in between. Perhaps it opens the door to an old hideaway cabin or shack.