I finally put the last pair of shorts and bottle of sunscreen away from our fun family vacation, and decided to take the suitcase up to the attic. Since, well, it's coming into summertime around here, and we like to stay closer to home in the summer... the most glorious months (in my opinion). Plus, the short trips we do take won't require that monster of a suitcase.
I climbed up to the dimly lit attic, grunting as I huffed and lifted the suitcase towards it's place. In order to get it nestled neatly by the other suitcases, I had to move a small box out of it's way. As I looked closer I noticed the old latch across the front of the box and Bismark stamped across the top, it was an old cigar box. Slowly lifting the lid to see what the box contained, I was startled by the creaking hinge, but my attention was quickly drawn to what was inside... these photos.
They showed a vintage Dodge truck, someone's prize possession.
My mind instantly raced to imagine the day these photos were taken way back when.... and why.
Was the photographer a man? A woman? Why would anyone want photos of this old truck, when it's obviously not in the best condition?
Were these photos taken here? Right outside my house? Ohhh, my house back then, what was it like?
Were there little children running around the yard? The pitter patter of little feet through the house as everyone was enjoying the day, the smell of fresh baked apple pie filling the kitchen and old jazzy blue's playing on the vintage radio. Goosebumps ran over me as I thought about it, as well as a bit of hunger.
Then I woke up and realized I hadn't been up in the attic, my husband put the suitcase away a few days ago.
PS. I don't go into the attic, it's really not that big.
PPS. I actually took these photos during this photo shooting expedition.
PPPS. I'm done now.
