The sunlight pierced through the large glass windows and illuminated the room. I had just moved to a new house and the attic was the last place I explored. I glimpsed around. The attic looked as if it was stuck in a distant past: cobwebs and dust bunnies were scattered around the room. In the middle of the room was a box, all alone like a treasure on a pedestal, bathing in the sunlight. I picked it up and scrutinized it. It was carved meticulously. I lifted its lid. Inside the box I found a few objects, all of them looking really old. I picked up the first object.

A trinket. I picked the string of beads and let it dangle loosely from in between my fingers. The beads were as colorful as a rainbow and gleamed under the light. Its color and texture reminded me of seashells and colored pebbles. It could've been a cheap souvenir, bought from a shack near the beach. I put the ends of the string together. It was too long to be a bracelet, but just the right length for a necklace. What caused it to be broken? I placed it on the floor, careful so that it didn't slip through the gaps in between the floorboards, and picked up the second object.

A diamond. I pinched it and dropped it on my open palm. The gem, unlike the beads, had no luster. Not a glint. How long did it take for this jewel to lose its shine? Many years, I reckoned. It must've fallen from a ring or necklace. I looked at the diamond and thought of how much it would cost. I could sell it for a large sum, and use the money to travel the world! My heart, however, told me not to. I placed the diamond next to the beads and picked up the third object.

A watch. It wasn't just any ordinary watch: it was a luxury watch. The leather strap was worn out and faded into a dull shade of brownish grey. Its hands were extended stiffly over its weary face, both of them pointing to twelve. Did it stop at lunch time, when a drink was spilled onto it, or at midnight, when it decided to rest like its owner? Its bezel boasted a crown of gems, though they didn't sparkle. I saw an empty spot. Did the diamond fall from the watch? I placed the diamond into the little spot on the bezel. It fit like a glove. The watch, like the attic, reminded me of a distant past, when automatic wristwatches hadn't existed yet (and if they have, it must've been a relatively new technology back then). I put it next to me and picked up the final object.

A card. It was the plainest object of all. The surface was rough and dusty, and a word had its ink smudged. The handwriting was a bit shaky, small, but I could read it clearly. Two short sentences were written on it.

Take them back. I don't want them anymore.

I was shocked. Take them back? Why? If it were the beads, I would understand; they didn't look valuable. But the diamond watch? Who would want to discard something so expensive and so coveted? I could only guess. I could imagine a lover ending a romantic relationship and returning these gifts to the ex who bought them for him or her. I kept on thinking about what I had found in the attic: the little things that meant so much more.