In a cubed room on a rectangular table set against a wall, are three boxes.
The first of these boxes (going right to left) contains an invitingly sullen purple darkness; with prolonged exposure to the outside this darkness begins swarming inward to a center point, and attempts to engulf the room are made. If one allows it to be done, immersion begins and at the end is revealed a terrible, magnificent secret.
The second of these boxes contains a neatly folded tuft of toilet paper (unsoiled). Next to it lies a delicate (looking) wasp-shaped vial filled entirely with an indeterminate red liquid. Be it Wine? Blood? Kool-Aid? Soon enough...
The third of these boxes contains, or seems to contain, an elaborate helix of mirrors, presently rendering the depth of the box incalculable. There are various colored lights and quantifiable particles of wonderment bouncing about therein. The result? A pulchritudinous sight to behold.
An early autumnal warmth comes from each of the three boxes. It feels good. Further excavations will be had.
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