5th February 1671

I awake within a giant warehouse which seems to have been abandoned for some time. The walls extend in all directions, seemingly forever. Every now and then I catch sight of something or someone racing between the pillars. On the ground are boxes filled with 14th century royal wedding mugs. Upon each pillar hangs a grotesque clay face, under each face is printed the word 'Regret',some faces appear to be crying.Out of the corner of my eye I see and old woman dressed in a blue apron and hairnet, she is sitting at a sowing machine, softly humming a song I do not know.