The Faded Attic

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 09:53:37 -

The Faded Attic

I woke with the smell of ozone in my nose. The air tasted metallic. Sharp. Like a broken wire. I was in the attic. Or what was left of it. The rafters groaned. Dust motes danced in the grey light. I sat up. My joints popped. A sound like dry twigs snapping. I am old. I know this. The body is a machine. It fails. The gears grind. The oil runs dry. But the mind? The mind is a shop. It keeps the...

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