What looked terrifying at first turned out to be nothing more than nostalgia gone ugly.
Old ornaments still clung stubbornly to twisted branches, bits of tinsel shimmered faintly in the
dim attic light, and the whole thing felt like a ghost of holidays past.
In the end, the only real mystery was how long it had been up there,
quietly decaying while life went on below, until someone finally looked up and decided to know, not just imagine, what it really was.
