A Sea of Love
Chapter One
An old trunk. An old trunk was all it was. Filled with mysteries of a past lived long ago, in a time when glamour, new inventions and wealth, were all high power. It was rough, scratched and faded, the lock on it had long since rusted and the hinges were barely holding it together. But it was Great Grandma Emily's trunk, the lively and energetic Victorian woman, and her spirit lived on with it.
* * *
I don't think I ever would have noticed the trunk if it hadn't been for Mom. One glum, rainy day I was bored and had nothing to do. "Clean the attic! You might find something cool!" Mom suggested. "Great Grandma Emily's old stuff is all up there, go explore!" The attic had never seemed to be a particularly interesting place to me, so you can't blame me for being reluctant. But that rainy day, as Mom's echo of suggestion followed me up the stairs, I suddenly had a feeling that maybe exploring the attic would be worthwhile. I thought of the memories that years of junk would bring, and the possibility of treasure I would find. Grandma Emily had died five years ago, and there was no doubt in my mind that her 102 years worth of belongings would prove some entertainment. There must be tons of neat stuff up there! Plus there's always Antiques Roadshow, maybe we she has some valuable finds! I smiled at my good humor, and began the long climb of spiraling stairs to the attic. Finally at the top, I sighed. Why did we ever decide to move into Grandma's old house when she died? Too many stairs! I brushed a long piece of my auburn hair out of my sea blue eyes, blinking, as my eyes watered from the dust filled room that was the attic. My allergies were always bad near dust and I sneezed, jumping a little in my small for a fifteen year old, 5'3 frame. I slowly edged into the attic, through the small door and into the dark area. I flipped on the light exposing a huge mass of cardboard boxes, books and shelves. I stepped through the mess, passing a dressmaking doll, and that's when I saw it. The trunk. The old, corroding trunk, that was about to open up a whole past to me. I walked towards it.
Chapter One
An old trunk. An old trunk was all it was. Filled with mysteries of a past lived long ago, in a time when glamour, new inventions and wealth, were all high power. It was rough, scratched and faded, the lock on it had long since rusted and the hinges were barely holding it together. But it was Great Grandma Emily's trunk, the lively and energetic Victorian woman, and her spirit lived on with it.
* * *
I don't think I ever would have noticed the trunk if it hadn't been for Mom. One glum, rainy day I was bored and had nothing to do. "Clean the attic! You might find something cool!" Mom suggested. "Great Grandma Emily's old stuff is all up there, go explore!" The attic had never seemed to be a particularly interesting place to me, so you can't blame me for being reluctant. But that rainy day, as Mom's echo of suggestion followed me up the stairs, I suddenly had a feeling that maybe exploring the attic would be worthwhile. I thought of the memories that years of junk would bring, and the possibility of treasure I would find. Grandma Emily had died five years ago, and there was no doubt in my mind that her 102 years worth of belongings would prove some entertainment. There must be tons of neat stuff up there! Plus there's always Antiques Roadshow, maybe we she has some valuable finds! I smiled at my good humor, and began the long climb of spiraling stairs to the attic. Finally at the top, I sighed. Why did we ever decide to move into Grandma's old house when she died? Too many stairs! I brushed a long piece of my auburn hair out of my sea blue eyes, blinking, as my eyes watered from the dust filled room that was the attic. My allergies were always bad near dust and I sneezed, jumping a little in my small for a fifteen year old, 5'3 frame. I slowly edged into the attic, through the small door and into the dark area. I flipped on the light exposing a huge mass of cardboard boxes, books and shelves. I stepped through the mess, passing a dressmaking doll, and that's when I saw it. The trunk. The old, corroding trunk, that was about to open up a whole past to me. I walked towards it.