chainmatrix

When I was a kid, I always used to find the most interesting stuff just lying around in the attic of my grandmother's house.  There were comic books, old magazines, mouse traps, tons of old clothes, strange gadgets...  And every item told a story, or many stories, always different.  In short, it was a paradise. All those things were still in the attic when I went there last Christmas for the first time in years.  But all I saw was junk.