This is the room of my parents' house that I used to live in before I went to college. It is just on the cold side of comfortable, though the sunlight streaming in through the uncurtained window gives the room an appearance of warmth. Once cluttered with posters and other familiar possessions, the room is now eerily bare; the walls are empty, the floor is clean. I recognize none of the items in the closets, and the sheets are not mine. Despite this, my feet instinctively know the path from the door to my bed in the dark.
This forest is thick and green. Sunlight filters through in odd shapes between the leaves, needles, and branches of the immense trees that loom above my head. The redwoods that tower over me must be thousands of years old! In respect for this ancient and beautiful place, I try to place my feet where they will do the least harm to the delicate layer of ferns that covers the entire ground as I head towards the promising sound of a waterfall that thunders in the distance over the whispers of the forest.
The path that led to the forest was at first quite well-kept, but fell into greater and greater disrepair the further into the forest it reached. It is almost as if the forest is reclaiming the path - vines cling to the gravel, trees have fallen onto the path and rotted, and in that dirt new life has grown. Eventually the path disintegrates completely and I am led onwards on intuition and curiosity alone.
I have finally reached the waterfall I heard. It is majestic. The water soars downwards over smooth, rounded rocks in a revelation of gravity. At the base of the waterfall, shrouded in a silvery mist, is a clear pool of water that leads to a stream. The water in the pool is so clean that I can see the individual rounded, glassy pebbles at its bottom. Shimmering fish dart away from my intrusive shadow as I wade through the crisp, cool water, staring in awe at the gorgeous waterfall. I wonder if there is a cavern behind it?
This is an old, wooden cup. It is rounded and smooth, almost like a bowl. I do not think it could stand up on its own. Its edges have been smoothed by the pounding of the waterfall; the cup has probably been here for years. The wood grain is raised from erosion, but the cup is so smooth. There is a small hole near the lip that may once have been used to hang it from a belt.
This key is so rusted that it will probably never again unlock what it was once intended to. It appears to be either quite old or quite weathered. There is little detail in the key's teeth, which suggests that it is a skeleton key for an entire building, rather than being for one specific room or cabinet. It is slightly bigger than the average house or car key.