The attic That never Was

"I'm in my parents' house. And there's a door. In the hallway ceiling. With one of those pull-down ladders. And I've lived here my whole life. There's no attic. We don't have an attic. But there it is. I pulled the ladder down and climbed up. And it was full. Boxes. Furniture. Old lamps. Dust. All of it. And I'm standing up there going "how." And I called down to my mom and said "did you know about this" and she said "know about what" and I said "the attic" and she said "we don't have an attic." I found my old stuff up there. Toys. A bike. My grandmother's chair. Things that were thrown out or lost or just. Gone. And they were all up here. In an attic that didn't exist. And I sat down on a box and just. Looked at it all. And I wasn't scared. I was just. Confused. And a little sad. For no reason. I woke up and looked at my ceiling. No door. Of course no door. I got up and made coffee and thought about it all day. Weird to miss a place that was never there. But I did."