I back into the driveway, carry my clothes inside and hang them in my old closet. It feels strange being here, alone, mom and dad both gone but all their things cluttered around me.
So many things. Souvenirs, collections of plates, thimbles, spoons, mugs; more. What in the world am I going to do with all this stuff?
It’s all mine now. That’s what my sisters tell me. I deserve it they say. I was the one who cared for them, stayed close when they moved out west. As I look around I wonder if it’s a reward or a punishment.
PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook