In that moment, time stopped.
The elderly lady looked up and the shutters were open. Her heart skipped a beat. She had waited for this moment for 50 years.
She tried to pull open the door of the old, dilapidated building, but it was stuck. She pulled as hard as her old bones would allow and it popped loose.
The memories came flooding back. This corridor used to be light and airy and full of dancing children, including herself. That was so long ago that it left her breathless.
She got to the stairs and began to pull herself up by the railing. With every step, the past flashed before her eyes. Her father and mother waiting for her at the top of the stairs., Her sister racing up the stairs by her side.
The air was musty and the old woman had a hard time breathing. She tiptoed inside the sunny apartment.
Ghosts. She saw them all. Her family. Laughing and talking. She and her sister, so happy, so innocent in those days. She came here because she wanted some of it back, the innocence. Maybe it would bring joy to her life.
She found the boxes in one of the bedrooms. Her dolls. Her puppets. Her childhood books and records. As she looked at each item, she smiled and cried at the same time.
All that was left that was important were the ghosts.
Thank you to C. E. Ayr and Jenne Gray for hosting the #unicornchallenge.
The Write Scribe 
Revisiting places from our childhood produces quite a mixture of feelings. How lovely that she found the boxes with her own things in them. But, yes, those ghosts – they can be kind or cruel. A nice, nostalgic story.
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Thanks, Margaret!
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This was a lovely read, RM. Often when we go searching around in our past, we don’t find what we’re looking for. Your story had a delightful resolution to it. Most enjoyable!
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Thank you, Nancy!
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Ghosts, memories, regrets…
Sometimes they intermingle and leave us unsure as to what is real and what is just a lingering wish, a dream that never happened.
You stepped so delicately around this, and it was enchanting.
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Thank you so much, Neil.
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You capture so well the power places have to transport us back to an earlier life, Rosemary.
It’s just a place but it’s alive with invisible times from the past.
I love the smiling and crying at the same time – that’s it exactly.
Beautifully and sensitively written.
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Thank you so much, Jenne!
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… as with the others, such an engaging story.
(…especially the record albums! truly evidence of everyday magic, the effect of a certain song to not merely remind us of a time in our life, but to let us feel as we did then… in nearly too fleeting a moment a song is the one genuine example of time travel)
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Thank you so much, Clark!
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