I need to leave; Grandma left a will—I’ve been gifted a house by the sea. The house is old and large, in fact; as a child I always spent my summer holidays there.
The stifling city air felt especially suffocating to Alice the day the letter arrived. The envelope was yellowed with age and smelled of the sea, of salt, and of something elusively familiar—the scent of childhood. With trembling fingers she opened it and read the lines written in a neat, old-fashioned hand. Grandma Sofia was leaving … Read more