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Going up there
Each item was a memento of an era in her long-lived life, a tangible memory she could touch and feel. She felt herself slipping into the past, each object a portal to a different time. So, she decided to go up there. As she stepped into the attic, the dusty floorboards creaked under her weight, echoing memories of bygone times. Her frail hands moved over boxes and trunks.
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