Corina began to clean out the boxes in the attic. The autumn sunlight filtered through the multicolored stained glass that served as the attic's ceiling. In a corner, hidden among a pile of other memories, a blue box was living its days.
– What, God, forgive me, is in this box? Corina wondered and pulled it closer.
The box was heavy, so the woman had to use all the strength she had left. She was almost 70 years old, but she had to admit that she was holding up well, even if she seemed immodest. She was tall, slim, without being frail and quite energetic. She liked to exercise and adored the mornings that she started unequivocally with a 20-minute walk on the treadmill.
Corina pulled out the box, opened its lid and began rummaging through all sorts of diaries and notebooks. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and her hands began to tremble. What emotions! She grabbed a suede-covered notebook between her thin fingers and opened it, muttering: "The Diary of an Unmarried Woman," then closed it with a flash. Her eyes moistened and her hand slowly ran over the velvety cover. She sat down, pulled her dress over her knees and began to read….