Boxing Up A Sublet
There's a garbage bag full of folded schedules and old receipts and ticket stubs. Stacks of books and split cardboard and shoeboxes filled with albums. Empty hangers. Tossed drawers. Excavated space that's lain undisturbed for four months. A pile of clothes for the red neon art deco Salvation Army a block away - the 1950's concrete up high and martial, the faded bronze crest over the door etched underneath the seal: "Blood and Iron." I have twenty-four hours.
I've lived in one house, one apartment, and seven different dorm rooms in the last four years. Packing up and moving out of a lived-in place gets faster with practice, but it doesn't get any easier.
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2 comments:
James,
I just ran across your site via your membership in the Books forum of Blog Advance. I have to say, after having read a couple of your posts ("The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" in particular), that you make Boston magical. This is the kind of blogging I like and wish I could do a better job of on my own site: full posts that don't dwell on the quotidian but use it as a springboard for something more substantive. Maybe you don't get much traffic your way (I don't see a counter); still and all, I find it hard to believe that "Rime" hasn't garnered even a "Cool!" from someone. But your work deserves to be read.
I'd be pleased if you dropped in on my blog and let me know what you think.
Cheers.
I just moved to a new house recently after living at the same home for 18 years. I didn't realize how tough of a job moving was. I feel sorry for people who move often.
BA~~14
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