He was about to take it all in when something caught his eye. At the end of the street stood a small, dilapidated shed. Its crooked frame looked like it had been there for decades. Tattered fabric hung from the window sills, and the roof sagged, threatening to collapse.
“James, sweetie, grab a box and help me,” his mom called, pulling him back to reality. He glanced at the shed once more, curiosity rising, but the chores of unpacking soon took over. The strange structure faded from his mind, for now, as he helped carry his things inside.