Its an empty, quiet, cool room. The shifts as I move, from bright to shadowed... The furniture is nondescript, basic furnishings with but the hint of life, cat scratches on the furniture, stains on the carpet, dents in the wall, dust on the window sill.
It is a dark forest... The treetops look like roots intertwined into a vast web, reaching breathlessly into the sky... The ground is soft, moist.. covered in moss and bedazzled with mushrooms and clovers... Sounds can be heard... sounds of the living forest... sounds of the tree that had fallen.
The path is dark... as if it weren't even there... Neither narrow nor wide, but as if the trees themselves parted for me to pass... a path that never appears and never was, never travelled, therefore it could never be abandoned... Clearly, the trees reveal it too me, but to the unguided, no eye would be able to see, its visiblity concealed by nature itself.
A river... a cool, river... the fast paced rushing sound it makes suggests a waterfall is near, yet its freshness cannot be smelled. The rush of the water is concealing its secret, but it is not a stagnant one, but a salty one... as if the river weren't fresh, but not stagnant...
A silver flask, but it probably isn't made of silver. The reason it was left has more to do with it being forgotten about than deliberately left behind. Perhaps the river I crossed was the river of Lethe and the last to drink of its water left this as a reminder that they did exist at one time or another...
A key is but something that unlocks; its shape, size, and form are beyond question or certainty, because a key can be anything. Gate-Keys are the worst, because they open doors that cannot be seen, unlock paths that have never been... To worlds unknown, dimensions far beyond our own...