In the attic of a nearly century-old home, buried under layers of dust and forgotten belongings, a relic of the past sat in quiet solitude. It was a heavy wooden box—solid, worn, yet still standing strong against the test of time. This was no ordinary piece of furniture; it was an icebox, a symbol of an era when keeping food fresh required effort, patience, and the steady rhythm of ice deliveries.
The new owner of the house, the great-grandchild of the original builder, found herself captivated by this object. As she brushed away the dust and opened the heavy lid, she wasn’t just looking at an old appliance—she was stepping into the past.
