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Stacie D. Fiddle DeDe jumped and ran up the stairs.

Pop! Pop! Pop! went the sound as she reached the top of the stairs while looking around to find where the noise was coming from.

A tiny box, way in the back, held the life of all.

She was not stupid, had read many books, knowing shiny mysterious boxes were not to be opened in the darkness of an attic.

Low and behold, the call was still sung, her eyes resting on the orange glow. The song now admitting was enchanting and begging to be opened this night.

Taking a step forward, then two back, was the dance Stacie D. did. The dance from the beginning of time that we all did from time to time.

To open the box, that held the secrets, that might make life bold or to follow the track, that was your destiny, not skipping to the end was the question of the day.

Shaking her head she yelled for the Yeti and he as yeti's do, lifted his head from slumber and yell,

"Oh, just come back to bed!"

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This is my Day 133: Freewrite, Prompt: the attic

Thank you @mariannewest for always starting this and your time every day.

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Much Love,

Snook

Image Source

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