The room is cool; very little light enters through a south window. It is dawn. I can hear "remembrances", playing softly in the background. The floor is gray and black marble. The walls are gray; there are cracks near the ceiling. Old pictures in black frames hang on the walls; these are black and white photographs of landscapes. One of the pictures is a wheat field and another is a barn. An old chair, couch, end table, and lamp, covered by sheets, are in the room.

The forest is dark gray. It is dusk. I can see my breath. The trees are pine. I can smell them. There are also maples that have lost their leaves.

There are leaves that crunch beneath my feet and some of them tumble over the abandoned path. The path is only a foot and a half wide. Only a few small tree branches lie in the path. I can step over them.

The body of water is a brook about a foot wide. The clear water rushes past the rocks. It looks cold.

The vessel is an old green glass beer bottle with no lable.

The key is a long silver skeleton key. It has fine detail on it, a Celtic design. But the key is tarnished. I believe it unlocks an attic door.