here in the corner of an attic, stands a child holding a jar of light. Dust and gloom surround her. In front of her, she seeks her own vision in the antique mirror, and to her absolute delight and surprise, she sees a dress that brings her pale countenance to life. Counting her buttons and tying her bows, she twirls like a dervish, as time moves slowly into the past. With deaddy bear in hand she skips lightly down the stairs, as her skirt billows out around her. Alas, when she reaches the dining room and tugs at the skirt of the beautiful woman bent over her, arms outstretched, she is suddenly and sadly alone once more, left to haunt herself for all eternity.