It has been years since you’ve been in your grandparent’s house. Now, vacant and nearly forgotten, a wave of regretful nostalgia sweeps over you. You find yourself in the attic amongst the trove of family memorabilia. You’re pushed, or maybe pulled into the center of the room. Unsure whether it was of your own volition, or other forces beckoning you forward, your eyes make a careful sweep of your surroundings, and land on the heavy attic door—just in time to see it swing shut. Terrific, you’re locked in the dusty attic. The only thing to do is shake off the unease and move forward, or perhaps backward, and decipher what is junk and what is treasure, amongst the decades of memories your relatives left behind.
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