Thursday, April 18, 2013
Here's one box full of important things. Here's another, filled with junk. Here's an empty one. Move them all aside.
Step over the holiday decorations.
Turn sideways to inch between Mother's old files and the shelf where the tax records wait out the five years before their shredded death.
The lair is there, corpses suspended almost in air, almost.
Someone needs to do some spring cleaning.