Six
Katty stretched and yawned.
The morning had started out okay. Then Bea woke up.
The brief car ride drained her—from their trailer to Hillcrest Nursing Home—just that had drained her.
Bea drained her.
And now, going through the old boxes drained her.
Stacks of unopened cardboard boxes taunted her from along the wall. They teased her. Tormented her. When she unpacked one, three more appeared. The contents seemed important: paperwork either from Clarence’s first stint in prison when he became a lawyer and helped inmates and guards with cases, or from his dad’s business while Clarence was incarcerated.
She inspected every paper, every note and clipping, to make sure she filed it correctly. That it was even important enough to file.
Those filing cabinets would fill up fast.
Things
