Today's OneWord: Aperture

Within the rusted wheel are three apertures where the light from the corner streams. We don't dare move the thing. When Seamus touches it, it leaves an inexplicably dark red grime on his fingers.

"Where did it fall from," he asked, "and how did it wind up in our cabin?"

Neither Danni nor I know the answer. As it is now, the cobwebs are beginning to spring. The wheel is not going anywhere any time soon.