The last bit of history is littered around the living room and kitchen for the last minute stragglers, bargain basement vultures to come this weekend for the imminent House Sale. In all honesty, the sign should say Life For Sale, because every little spoon and fork has remnants of the unforgiving, and indefensible past. Pinky’s past.
Normally, I could easily discard the raunchy glittering Christmas cards, ridiculous cartoon Birthday cards, and cheap recycled red wine, but I cannot dispense with the unapologetic pink pig adorned in an Alcatraz uniform with the swinging baton. That history is irreplaceable. Almost criminal to dispose of with the rest of the $1 items floating around on the kitchen counter. Even the thought of liquidating it is seemingly sacrilegious.
Another artifact I discovered underneath all the files was the souvenirs purchased on our last trip to Thailand. Evidently we thought cheap coin bags would be ideal souvenirs, but miraculously, customs didn’t catch on at the airport. How many people would appreciate a coin bag shaped like little scintillating elephants? Apparently we thought many people would find it equally valuable.
House sale starts at 8 am, but nothing in it belongs to a house. Together it does equate to a home, however, in pieces it’s nothing more than useless abandoned junk on the sidewalk for people to rummage through. On a positive note, if it does survive the trash bin, it might become a part of someone else’s history. Pinky lives on!! (Well, for another three weeks anyway.)