My grandmother's attic


My grandmother's attic is very creepy and dusty. To get to it, you must climb a skinny metal ladder from the kitchen, open a wooden trap door and make your way up. No one ever goes there, so no one really knows what is up there. Of course, attics attract me.
I have always known that up there are four old trunks, two of which contain bed spreads that my grandma wanted to hang in the sunlight. What I didn't know was that under those bed spreads were the family's heir loom: dozens of hand spun, hand woven and embroidered linen cloths! Same of which belonged to my great grandmother. In fact, my grandmother had forgotten it was up there. It is amazing how old wooden trunks preserve cloth so well, everything was still in great condition, just a bit of an old moldy smell. 

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