Memories can be clear and vivid. They can also be fuzzy and kaleidoscopic. Murky. Enchanting. Sometimes, our memories are not even our own. They are part of something greater, a collective unconscious. They are altered by everyday sights, experiences, and feelings. Nostalgia plays tricks on us. We long for places we’ve never been or connect with times we’ve never lived.
This is a story about a girl and her childhood memories. Memories filled with moments spent with a maternal figure. Was it her grandmother? Great aunt? Was it an opulent house filled with antiques? Or a quirky house in Miami filled with knick-knacks and garage sale finds?
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