Miss Lila in the attic

This is a story of creaky stairs, cobwebbed dark corners, dusty old boxes, and a bottle of coconut rum.

Miss Lila had really been working hard lately. Her job was stressful, her domestic life demanding, and her time to unwind-minuscule. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon. The house was quiet, empty of its male inhabitants. And Miss Lila decided it was time to take a trip, a tropical getaway. She kicked off her shoes, locked the front door, and headed to her special place. Miss Lila slowly worked her way up the old, narrow stairs to the attic. As she neared the top, she made a mental note to bring down Grandma Jane's old cookie cutters. Homemade chocolate chip cookies- hhmmmm...no one would ever question her trip to the attic if cookies were the result. Just inside the door, Miss Lila turned to the blue canvas box she had hidden strategically behind her bound, yellowed-by-the-years church bulletins. She wondered, for only a moment, why she held on to all of those old bulletins. Then she stooped slightly, reaching deep into the blue box, and immediately recalled the cool feel of the glass bottle at her fingertips. Ah, yes, those paper stacks were sooo useful. Just as her mind began to dance off to her island paradise, it happened. She raised her head a bit too quickly, forgetting the thick, heavy beam overhead. Seconds later, the coconut rum proved no relief. Blood streamed down Miss Lila's face, and she realized stitches were in order. She abandoned her stash and hastily exited her would-be attic vacation. There would be no escape, only a nice, relaxing evening in the urgent care. No cookies either.