He squinted into the musty darkness of the room, his gaze following the once-familiar path. Resting his eyes on the light switch, he shuffled across the room, ignoring the pain from the stitch in his left leg. It had been a while since he had come to this wing of the house and he found himself nudging against dust-laden furniture.
As he raised his hand to flick the switch, his eyes fell upon a cardboard box on the left shelf. There was nothing special about the box, it was cube shaped, about 18 inches long each side. It was faded and worn, showing signs of a better life. Quite the ordinary box. Yet he still grasped it firmly and lowered it to the floor.
Opening the cover flaps, his dull eyes suddenly brightened upon seeing a small red and white ball. Pulling it out, he looked at it for a moment before carefully setting it aside. He looked in the box again, and saw a thin red cover, almost like a that of a book. He lifted that out and recognized the red plastic case. It had faded with the time but was clear of the dust plaguing the open surfaces.
He spent 20 minutes looking through that box, setting aside bottle after bottle, with labels of various healing medicines. Finally, he picked up a small square. It was a picture frame, the back facing him. Suddenly, fearfully, he turned it over. Sure enough, tears welled in his eyes as he looked at the picture. It was of poor quality, as faded as the red plastic. The sands of time had dissolved the edges of the photo, leaving only a large portion of the center. In it is a boy, no more than ten, kneeling on the ground sporting a wide grin. On hand is in the classic "peace" symbol, the two fingers spread apart.
His other hand encircles a tuft of yellow. The yellow ball with two black eyes and a jagged tail. The yellow ball also has two fingers on its hand in the "peace" symbol.
After staring at it, he placed the photo and frame into the bottom of the box. One by one, the objects went back into the box from whence they came.
He disappeared for a moment, came back soon. Cutting a long piece, he wrapped the tape round and round, sealing the box. Carefully he lifted it back to its place on the shelf.
He slowly walked to the other room and emerged with a hooded cloak. The latches of the window shutters were flicked to their closed positions and as he stepped out the door, Ashura wiped the last of his tears from his eyes.