On Friday I was in the Attic a bunch (but I didn't blog about it then, because I was so stoked over defeating the Anti-Punctuality Demon) and you would not believe our attic.
Some people have nice little attics filled with old heirlooms and memories and things. Some people have musty old attics they never go into. Some people have attics that don't exist.
Our attic isn't like any of those.
First of all, you can't step on the floor.
This isn't because it's covered with clutter or something, It's actually quite barren. No, you can't step on it because if you do you'll fall through it and then fall fifteen feet to the concrete floor of the garage. You can only step on the sparse two-by-fours that serve as supports for the floor (thank god they're exposed)
Next, believe it or not, the ceiling is covered with nails, whose points are sticking downward.
And then, to add insult to injury (almost literally) there's no lights or windows.
Sounds like a jolly place, right? Every time I go in there I feel like I'm in an Indiana Jones movie. 'Indiana Jones and the Attic of Collapsing Floors' or some such.
What's your attic like? Is it dark and musty, or it is nonexistent? Is it worthy of a horror story in it's honor?
(Please remember to vote on the poll at the bottom of the page)
