Boxes, books, moving, packing.

A million times helping a friend move, clean, pack. Always so much fun to play, chat, discover. Momentary lapse, timer that ticks away the seconds moments instead of letting them go by in silence. Impatient little thing, chugging away, tick-tick-tick, the sound of boxes being filled. The smell of dust and books, and occasionally a cat will wander by and gaze distrustfully.

Who am I? Why am I here among their things moving packing being talking?

Scattered things about, waiting. One thing at a time, box by box. It is only three floors down and along a hallway that these objects are being relocated.

Move, shift, travel, work, play.

After we finish for the day perhaps we will go out, have dinner and drinks and walk the two blocks back.

Tomorrow will be short and early, on a ferry in the afternoon to go with family, to enjoy that company.
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