Member-only story
A yard sale to clear and cleanse. A sale of all the items that had been collected by them, in the years they were together. Now, a sale to shake those times loose. To start again. To live. A simple idea that is, truly far from simple.
Written by Rebecca Milton
Published by AmorBooks
Yard Sale.
There it was, in the classified section of the Newtown Gazette.
Yard sale, Saturday, 253 Sycamore Ave, eight in the morning until six in the evening.
Everything must go.
Everything. Must. Go.
I wondered, as I looked at the ad, if people who read it would see the desperation which I had loaded into that sentence. Everything must go. Would they look at the ad, see that line and wonder why? Why does everything have to go? Is there something wrong with the things that have to go? Is there something wrong with the person at this address? Why must everything go?
“Because it has to,” is what I would tell them, if they asked. If they pulled up in their sedans and mini vans, on their bikes or in Mini Coopers. I would tell them, if they asked, while they walked among the things I had spread out on tables and blankets in the front yard. If they picked up the lamp or perhaps the lazy Susan. The one that used to sit in the middle…
