FICTION FRIDAY
Garage Sale
It started with a cardboard box like the ones picked up from a storage facility for two bucks fifty a pop. He had heard his parents talking about a garage sale, to make a spot of extra cash, help pay the bills. He thought he should help. From the kitchen junk drawer, he pulled a roll of black cloth tape, and gaffed the bottom of the box to seal it. The first three things he put into the box were a Pokémon card from above his bed, the magpie feather on his desk and his favourite pair of footy socks.
I wish that the boy, back then, would know the weight of the box. Or maybe it’s best the boy didn’t know. He will know, one day in his future. I want to warn the boy that throughout his life, the box will carry items of importance, objects of obsolescence, trinkets and treasures. And I would tell the boy to add another layer of gaff to the bottom seal and the sides because the weight of expectation is a burden too big to carry.
A Fullness in Brevity - Adam Byatt 