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one-hundred-fifty-one-word story

The afternoon sun shone through the attic window, illuminating dust that had been stirred. Cameron pulled a box down from one of the many stacks and opened it.

“Looks like photos,” he said.

Tucked in a corner, Jake ignored the comment and continued to refold piles of clothing.


“We don’t have time,” he replied, still folding.

Cameron pushed the box aside and reached up to grab another one.

“What years are they from?”, Jake asked.

Cameron shrugged, retrieved the box of photographs, and started rummaging through the mess of albums and loose pictures.

“There’s one here of you getting a red wagon for your birthday.”

Jake stopped folding for a moment and smiled.


“I think the wagon’s up here somewhere.”

“It is.”

Cameron reminisced about summer trips past as he flipped through an album.

“I wish we could convince Mom to keep the house.”

“Me too, Cam,” he sighed.

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