Tag Archives: Fiction

Cleaning Up the Garage

“This sucks!” I grunt, moving things around the shelves, getting dusty and dirty, and realizing just how bad I am at keeping the garage anywhere near the level of organization it needs to be. “I really don’t understand how, with how little we’re out here, things seem to move around, scrounge up all the dirt in the world and pile it on – in places that make no sense. Gah!”

You laugh at me. You know I’m frustrated, but you also know I have a point. Just how DO things get so disheveled when it’s such a low-use area. It really does seem like they have a mind of their own. Screwdrivers, sneaking around. moving paintbrushes and turning cans of oil over. You giggle to yourself again, walking over to me.

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