the cat is upset by the suitcases and boxes and unspoken recriminations. she’s hiding. for a moment i fear she’s sneaked into the truck, gone off hter on an adventure from roirl anymore, fine. i can be even stinkier than she is.
i bring a box of big black garbage bags upstairs. eye shadolitter nail polish and astringent—into the trash. i dump draels, mousse, body ht be useful, goes. i scrub the tub and sink clean of her. through poems and essays, admiring high scores on tests and reading her name, printed or typed neatly in the upper right-hand corner of each paper. i pack the desk contents into a box. six months. i think. i ive her six months to collect her belongings, and then i e.
her books stymie me. dr. seuss, sh, r. l. stine, baby-sitters club, shakespeare, the odyssey and the iliad, romance novels, historical novels and textbooks. a lifetime of reading；each book beloved. i le bookshelf to deal with later.
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