She couldn't even remember the last time she had gone up into the attic. She supposed it had been back when she was just a young girl, and her father had shown her the many heirlooms that had been passed through the many generations in their family.
Now, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, hidden further from sight by a cobweb here and there.
Sadly, there was no time for her to reminisce, she had come here looking for one item in particular. Coughing as the dust was stirred by her movements, she found the book right where it had been during her youth. It seemed oddly untouched compared to the rest of the room, but she paid that no heed. What was truly important, was the information contained within, anyway.
YOU ARE READING
Tiny Stories Part 2
Short StoryMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
