Mae stood in the dimly lit attic, the scent of dust and aged wood filling her lungs with each breath. Shadows pooled in the corners, stretching and twisting around the stacks of boxes and faded furniture, relics of a life that felt almost as ancient as the house itself.
Outside, the sky was a dull, gray overcast, casting a muted glow through the single attic window, giving the room a dreamlike haze. Mae’s fingers traced the edge of a framed photo on an old trunk, her grandmother’s familiar, smiling face looking back at her, as if from another world.
Her grandmother had been the warmth and strength of her life, the keeper of stories and laughter. But now that she was gone, Mae felt an unsettling hollowness in the house. Everything was still, waiting. There was a strange reverence to this attic, as though the very air held memories, caught and frozen in time.
Leni Korhonen. Left calculus and part of my life for three kids and a divorce but writing never left me it’s just took a few decades till i decide to expose it further than my notebooks and my computer. For best or worst it works cathartically for me.
Ovi eBook Publishing 2024
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