Photographs by NAE ©2019
It was trash day. He happened to be home again, but he had not put the trash curbside.
This was primarily because he was on the couch, passed out, drunk. She went out onto the front porch slamming the door behind her. He didn't so much as flinch. Quickly she darted around to the side of the house and pulled out first one, then the other trashcan. Leaning on the trashcan, she sighed. It seemed to her that the two cans could not possibly hold all the trash that had become her life. As she headed back towards the house, she took a good look, with new eyes. The paint was peeling and the wood trim appeared to be rotting. What has become of my life she thought? Stepping back inside through the front door, she stepped back in time and into the future at the same time. I can't do this anymore she thought. With that thought in the back of her mind, she began. Her eyes scanned the room and discovered there were many things she didn't need, so she carried them out to the curb too. With every reentry, something else jumped out at her as being old or broken or just plain dirty. Each item seemed unusable. Everything seemed just wrong. Several hours later, everything from the house was in the yard, sort of near the curb. Everything was out, even him, for he'd come to a few hours in, gotten really mad and stormed off down the block. He was barefooted, as his shoes were somewhere in the yard and he didn't bother to look. The sun began to set as she stood on the porch feeling the evening breeze kiss her cheeks. For the first time in a long time, she felt free.