Jacob stopped on the top step, took a breath, and opened his office door. He knew they’d be there. Empty boxes. Like a maze leading to his desk.
Used to be when you were moving, you’d stop at liquor stores and ask for their empties. Not anymore. Now, you order from Amazon or Chewy, and the boxes are delivered to your door. Just take out the merchandise and put them with yesterday’s deliveries.
But these aren’t for moving. Molly calls it cleaning the clutter. Jacob knows, though, they’re not for cleaning.
These boxes are for packing away his life.
“I write because for the last quarter of a century and more writing is all I’ve done for a living.” – the author