The door was heavy, but after a hefty shove it opened wide. Dust, cobwebs and goodness knows what else fell down from above, covering my head and shoulders. Light beamed in through the far window, casting four neat squares across the floor. 
The rest of the room was in darkness.
I could just about make out the box in the corner, exactly where it had been left.
I was about to step into the room, open the box, and release many forgotten memories, when something stopped me.
Not yet. A voice said. It’s too early. Wait until December at least.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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