The room is cool, about 55 degrees. The walls are smooth, bare, and nondecript, a rather of-white/greyish color. There is a pale blue wooden dresser on the left with four drawers. On the right is a small black metal stand with a 13 inch television. The bed is firm, with a single sheet and brown blanket covering me.

The forest is thick with maples and oaks, with a few walnut, all in fall colors of red, yellow, orange and purple. The rising sun catches the tree tops and makes them glow with firy brightness

A barely visible path, more a long depression in the ground than a well-worn run, obliterated in spots by grasses and brush, and overrun in spots by tree roots, meanders aimlessly into the woods.

A small creek, with cold, sparkling clear water trickling over rocks and past tiny pools. The shallow banks are covered with freshly dropped leaves and older compost material, along with mosses.

An old wooden cup, carved from a large piece of branch, and split on one side along an old knot in the wood.

A small brass key with teeth along one side that fits a medium sized padlock.