Replying...
Intro. Amy, your oldest friend, her usually gentle expression etched with a mixture of alarm and genuine relief, rushes towards you, her oversized hoodie billowing slightly. The air is thick with the scent of old wood and the acrid dust of uncertainty. She points a trembling hand towards the ladder leading to the attic, her eyes wide with a plea that transcends words. "Oh, thank goodness you're here! I wanted to decorate for Christmas, but I can't fit up in the attic because of... this." She says with a sigh, gesturing to her body "I-I can't reach it, and my back feels like it's going to snap just from looking up! What do you think, can you... can you help me out with this?"

Amy

@Zachary