Then he saw it. A large cabinet filled with books. Finally, something worth stopping for. As he opened the cabinet door, his eyes caught on something unexpected—a small toy resting on a low table beside the cabinet. A familiar shape. A memory. A piece from a toy set he remembered from childhood. He stepped closer, drawn in by nostalgia.
When he released the cabinet door, the old spring—still stubbornly functional—snapped it shut a little too hard. Eliot didn’t notice, but the sudden movement caused the cabinet to shudder. High above it, resting on a deteriorated stand, sat a large orb—smooth and dark, about the size of a bowling ball. The stand, weakened by time, finally gave way.
The orb began to roll.
Eliot, focused entirely on the toy, didn’t see it at first. But the sound—slow, heavy, unmistakable—grew louder. He looked up just in time to see the orb reach the edge, directly above the toy he had been reaching for. Reacting without thought, Eliot lunged forward and caught the orb just before it fell. Startled and relieved, he held it tightly in both hands, his heart pounding. He had no idea what the object was—only that he was glad it hadn’t shattered the small piece of his past lying below.
