Amelie moved carefully through the shelves, stacked with jars and cardboard boxes until she reached the back of the room. It was empty other than a heavy black shroud covered with a thick layer of dust in the corner. It was draped over something.

Amelie gingerly put her hand out to touch the shroud, but stepped back in shock. It was colder than ice, not like any cloth she'd ever felt before. It was almost a warning to keep one from lifting it. Amelie put her hand out again and drew the cloth aside. Underneath were small jars. They were all the same size and shape but Amelie was particularly drawn to one.
She picked up the small jar and wiped the glass clear of dust. Amelie put her eye to the glass and watched as a dream slowly unfolded. This one was light and Amelie could hear a girl laughing as she ran through the tall grass and flowers. She held three daisies in her small hand.

Suddenly the Dream became disjointed and it swirled from one picture to another; a stick of candyfloss at the fair, a small hand clutching a larger, rougher hand, two people lying on their front watching a snail slowly slithering along. Laughter, then tears and then nothing. The pictures disappeared and Amelie was left standing, staring, astonished, at the jar.
Faintly, Amelie heard her Grandma calling her for lunch. She stuffed the jar into her jumper pocket and stumbled through the cardboard boxes and past the shelves, out of the door.