There is a place somewhere, perhaps in a far distant land, may also be a far distant land, may also be a far different universe or indeed a realm far different to our own. 

And within that place, there rests a room, atop a very long flight of wooden steps. 

Filled  with dust, boxes, trinkets and books, old pictures, maps and long forgotten but well rested dreams. 

But kept, none the less, warm in the company of a soft light that peers gently through a window.