The trunk was old,
older even than the old woman who it belonged to.

She had followed the trunk’s singing,
a harmony unlike any other she had heard before.

The song had beckoned her,
teasing her with the promise of adventure,
coaxing her with the hope of something new in her life.

It led her to a small door,
hidden behind old dresses
wrapped in plastic and smelling of her grandmother,
it had been waiting for someone to find her,
waiting for excitement.