Up in an attic, secrets are told tucked away in boxes, stuffed in baskets, locked in safe boxes,
buried in forgotten letters, or left aside without thought by someone who never came back.
I enjoy going through things in attics, not so much the dust, nor the little creatures that pop up without saying hi.
There is usually a discovery or two, and stories that follow are worth the mice, and spiders who claim the empty space as their home.
Have you ever had a mouse run up your leg?
I had a rat fall on me, yeah I didn't even scream as I was way too into a box of old papers to notice.
That is when I realized I have a serious addiction.
But then you already knew that crazy factoid about me.