It is time to purge.
Black garbage bags, one by, to be filled with reminders, dinosaurs from the tee shirt epoch and a century of otr dresses with a densely printed floral motif.
Match boxes, toe-torn socks, photographs, the books on my shelf that I have and will never read, souvenirs, scraps of paper with impressive, pungent one-line wisdoms, my training bras: all scooped up, however gracefully and put into the powdered black bag.
An exercise.
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