She was a little girl and all she had was her attic.
Full of beads and turquoise pearls she sat by that moldy brown adjacent door everyday, waiting for it to open for her.
Her silver key made of spirals and magic was the entrance to the garden well and cherry farms and kept her possessions safe.
In the attic she could see all of her father's acres, the stables, apple garden, vegetable patch, unicorns den and (most importantly) the ocean.
She had been banned from the ocean (although she could never remember why), but she always dreamt of jabbing her toes in what would be the sticky sand and swirling her big toe in the shape of stars.
While dreaming of sea shells she had tea by herself, always with her pinky reaching for the sky and crumpets made of sand.