Six Vintage Dresses Left in a Cedar Trunk on Oak Street

hallway after Jane left, the weight of the heavy fabric hanging over my forearm like a wet blanket. The scent of mothballs was stronger on this one, thick enough to make my eyes water.

I stopped near the empty cedar trunk, holding the green wool up to the small window at the end of the hall to catch the light from the streetlamp outside. The hem was continue reading …