LA-->NY One week to pack up a half-decade.
The bulk of the contents of my one bedroom habitat I will stow away in a storage unit: most of my books, the Danish modern dresser, the tall silver lamp, a few pieces of artwork, the comfy grey velvet chair, winter coats, an old wooden trunk, non-essential accessories, many trinkets, paperwork, a rug that never looks clean even when it is, my mother's ex-husband's grandfather's mounted head of a black bear that I don't have the heart to dispose of––maybe one day I'll get to bury it in the woods where the animal had been shot.
I'm bringing a blue suitcase to pack with things I'll need in California: my favorite books, the Levis that fit me best, shiny leather shoes, a summer dress, bottles of vitamins, and all the hard feelings that fit.
My ex- boyfriend will take back the haunted mattress and everything else will go to the curb with a note that says "Take me. FREE."
Then I'll fly NY-->LA and re-learn how to drive.