The room is cool; the air has a bite of chill in it. There is a Victorian-style chair covered with floral pattern fabric, a small bed neatly made with a blue blanket and no comforter, and a small table with an old lamp on it. The carpet is dark blue and the walls are a pasty white.
The forest is thick, only a halo of sunshine filtering through the canopy. The trees are mostly pine and fir.
The path is worn on the ground, fairly well traveled but not too wide. There are branches in the way of the trail here and there.
It is a river or creek in the woods; the water is crystal clear and mountain cold; the stream bed is covered in small dark polished rocks.
It is a gem-encrusted gold goblet, the kind you show off to your friends.
The key unlocks my home.