The baby in the attic
I want to tell you a story, without heroes but with many victims. No weapons but with daily battles. No wins but strong winners. I want to tell you a story about hope...
I want to tell you a story, without heroes but with many victims. No weapons but with daily battles. No wins but strong winners. I want to tell you a story about hope...
You who hold this writing in your hands, have you ever heard of the "attic babies"? Did it occur to you how many souls never saw the light of the sun, while they were running for their reward by slipping out of their mother's womb? You are ignorant, reader, of the small and large dramas of a society that, like a cat, hid its impurities, slips, sins, and even debauchery, wherever it could. In basements, in attics, and sometimes under the ground...
Many such babies were found years later when the old mansions were converted into apartment buildings. The humid conditions seem to have played a role in turning them into tiny mummies that shocked those who discovered them. The babies of the attic…
I'm not among them though... I'm a baby in the attic but I lived. And I grew up…. To write my story…