Found a lot of documents in the attic of my house recently, including this page from a book. Also there was a check from 1958, a few more ’50’s legal papers & homework on famous explorers with doodles drawn in the margin lines. I know my house was built around 1935- so I figure, maybe if I keep exploring up there maybe I’ll find some hidden gold. Like my own personal Amelie experience. Research needs to be done.
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This grief is too much to bear.
If there was a tight order to the world that you made, it’s come unspooled and no one will wind it up again.
God, I feel it coming, that ache for the stories that will never be told. And an anger rising when i remember what never should have been.
Mostly, though, she scared him because of what he couldn’t see, or feel. As if the woman he saw before him, with the dreaming eyes and disappointed mouth, were just the tip of the iceberg, as if the rest of her might be lurking around a corner or caged in a basement somewhere, dangerous and waiting.
