She looks around for a piece of cloth that she can use to dust the windows. The first thing that catches her attention is an old bed-sheet. It is holding together some books and soft toys; a result of some hurried last moment packing.
She doesn’t want to. But she has to. She doesn’t have an option. She doesn’t want an option.
She unwraps the faded bed-sheet from around the books, casts one last look at it, and tears it into two perfect halves from the seams.
She makes smaller pieces of it. She picks one and starts dusting the windows. As she dusts the dirt off the white window frames, she feels like she is dusting memories off this old bed-sheet.
She has chosen to hold on before. But not this time.
She starts humming a forgotten tune as she begins dusting the kitchen counters. The memories begin to grow dimmer.
“... the future is scary. But you can't just run back to the past because it's familiar. Yes, it's tempting... but it’s a mistake.”