Moving Day

The cool damp air puffs through my window

I lie awake in my bedroom for the final time

5.18am. Hearing the soft rain outside and the flat fapping of the bunting I’ve used as a makeshift guard, reserving the space for the truck

It’s not enough room. Can I ask the neighbours to move their car? Whose van is that anyway?

The fridge is empty, things are packed.

Mustn’t forget adaptor plugs.

Where did I put those tickets? Oh yes.

I hope the wardrobe will fit.

Don’t let them take the recycling bucket.

5.45am. The heater starts to tick into life

It must be time to move

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