Sitting in this dusty old attic listening to the shingles flapping in the wind I flip through a dog-eared book from my childhood.
As I skip through the pages, I look up and notice the fine inlaid carpentry work of an old chest.
Going over, leaving prints on the dusty floor, I lift the lid. With reptilian slowness a lazy fat spider edges away.
Inside this trove of ancient treasure, magnificent finds of days gone by. Mementos of a honeymoon, a parachute jump. Gramma's best biscuit recipe. A photo of Sam the hound with spittle running down his jowls. A picture of a babe at his mother's ******.
A permutation of these tucked away articles give meaning to a life well and truly lived. Closing the pages of these treasures I wander away to watch my grandchildren make memories of their own.
Word Bricks from my friend Frank: Parachute. Dog-eared. Permutation. ******. Shingles. Honeymoon. Reptilian. Biscuit. Carpentry.