The attic (post edit)

[R.C. KITCHENS]

Dust filled bars of light cut through one another as their paths intersect.
Smells of mildew, and mothballs coat the thick, and stagnant air.
Memories lay dormant in the dark, forgotten memories meant to be remembered.
Where unneeded wants go to live out their existence...

-The attic

I like the imagery here. the last line is a bit of a tongue twister. I dont see any other words you could use there though. Good read enjoyed it.