Haven The light slices through the wooden slits in the door, illuminating the numerous objects in a glorious yellow light. The hay bales are defined, and the pitchforks and tools mournfully awakened as the light touches them. Old, rusty horseshoes hang like trophies on the dark, mahogany wall. Each of their details are slowly brought to #life by the rising light; the scratches, chipped areas and inlays portrayed quietly, their shadows a continuous reminder on their fading silver surface. Yellowing, gnarled ropes droop from the lofty recesses above, their bodies enveloped in the shadow. Their split ends tell tales years old, of the toils and struggles they have contended with over time. Beneath them is a trough, whose water has dried out after many years of being abandoned and neglected. In a way, it is a haven; a sanctuary. The doors are locked and bolted, their withered wooden wrinkles barely holding them tightly closed, keeping everything inside safe and undisturbed from the outside world.