Yard Sails

Sometimes I write fiction. Today, you get to meet Jackie and Olive. And Arno too, but nobody cares about him.

Jackie opened her eyes and Olive was already staring at her from across the pillow, eager. “Let’s go yard sale-ing.”

She closed her eyes against the bright sunlight and enthusiasm. “What time is it? I don’t want to. We never find anything. It’s all junk.”

Olive leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, then slipped out of bed. “I think we should. We’re always talking about spending less money on new stuff, buying into the whole consumer-industrial complex less, right?”

“If less is more, shouldn’t we be de-cluttering our lives? Getting rid of something every day? I read a blog where this couple got rid of something every day for a year.” She peered at the clock. “Jesus, is it before seven?”

Olive was tossing a pile of clothes off of her purple chair, looking for her robe. She finally located it hanging off of the mirror. “And the couple? At the end of the year, what did they have?”

Jackie chuckled. “Not much.” 

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