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LJ SURVIVOR 2020—Individual Immunity Challenge 3: Touchy Subjects
LJ SURVIVOR 2020—Individual Immunity Challenge 3: Touchy Subjects
Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. Her breath came in hard shallow gasps.
The little trinket box she’d seen poking out of the bag and retrieved and opened, lay discarded on the floor by her side. It was pretty, and she knew she could sell it, but it wasn’t the prize. It wasn’t even close to the prize. The prize, buried under an assortment of costume jewelry, was a dozen gold ingots. She didn’t need google to know she held several thousand dollars. And the only thought in her head was what else is in those bags?
~~~
It had taken her most of two hours of heavy hauling to clear the path from the foot of the stairs to the driveway, and it had taken her an hour to find a ladder and climb into the dumpster where she sat for an additional two hours going through every single bag inside it and sorting out all the little treasures her aunt had tucked away in boxes and handbags, some designer and worth quite a lot themselves.
There were four diamond rings in a jar of face powder, a gold chain, in an old plastic egg they used to sell pantyhose in, and money—there was actual cash. She found coins and bills, and plastic poker chips stuffed into the toes of a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. Truth was she didn’t even open all the boxes and bags she found. She loaded them up in a suitcase that had been full of old newspapers, and climbed out of the dumpster, and locked them in the trunk of her car. She sat behind the steering wheel, still shaking. She told herself to breathe, just breathe.
After a hot shower and a bowl of steaming Raman noodles, she laid out some garbage bags on the carpet and went through the contents of the suitcase. She knew she’d have to take pictures and make an inventory, but right now she just wanted to see it all.
And it was a jumble. MacDonald’s toys mixed in with precious gems and collector coins. A stack of vintage hockey cards in a box of ancient greeting cards with a few old credit cards thrown in for good measure. Designer scarves, gloves, even shoes all mixed in together with real garbage like the coffee grounds she found in a Coach satchel. Over and over she asked herself what had happened to her Great Auntie Bev, the wisest, kindest, sweetest, and most organized aunt anyone could ever want.
~~~
Clutching a little black enamel broach tightly in her fist she looked up the local bank on her phone. Open from ten till noon.
First stop in the morning. She needed a safe deposit box. Laughing out loud it occurred to her she might need more than one.
Yes, Auntie Bev had been well-off. Her mother had always said so, in fact, Auntie Bev's wealth had been one of many touchy subjects for her mom.
What else could be in the garage? What else could be in the house?
Maybe nothing, she cautioned herself. This might be the extent of the treasure. But she recalled paintings on the walls and elaborate looking artifacts on tables and shelves. Of course, they might be ruined from neglect or sold years ago.
That’s okay she thought as she bent to retrieve an envelope that had fluttered halfway under the bed as she was sorting through the suitcase.
She cocked her head and opened it. What on earth? Began to read and just as the world began to tilt to the left, everything went dark.
To be continued…
(AN: So sorry this is so short. I thought the deadline was tomorrow. I don't think I've ever written anything so fast in my life. Breathe, Murielle, Breathe!)
Her heart pounded. Her hands shook. Her breath came in hard shallow gasps.
The little trinket box she’d seen poking out of the bag and retrieved and opened, lay discarded on the floor by her side. It was pretty, and she knew she could sell it, but it wasn’t the prize. It wasn’t even close to the prize. The prize, buried under an assortment of costume jewelry, was a dozen gold ingots. She didn’t need google to know she held several thousand dollars. And the only thought in her head was what else is in those bags?
~~~
It had taken her most of two hours of heavy hauling to clear the path from the foot of the stairs to the driveway, and it had taken her an hour to find a ladder and climb into the dumpster where she sat for an additional two hours going through every single bag inside it and sorting out all the little treasures her aunt had tucked away in boxes and handbags, some designer and worth quite a lot themselves.
There were four diamond rings in a jar of face powder, a gold chain, in an old plastic egg they used to sell pantyhose in, and money—there was actual cash. She found coins and bills, and plastic poker chips stuffed into the toes of a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. Truth was she didn’t even open all the boxes and bags she found. She loaded them up in a suitcase that had been full of old newspapers, and climbed out of the dumpster, and locked them in the trunk of her car. She sat behind the steering wheel, still shaking. She told herself to breathe, just breathe.
After a hot shower and a bowl of steaming Raman noodles, she laid out some garbage bags on the carpet and went through the contents of the suitcase. She knew she’d have to take pictures and make an inventory, but right now she just wanted to see it all.
And it was a jumble. MacDonald’s toys mixed in with precious gems and collector coins. A stack of vintage hockey cards in a box of ancient greeting cards with a few old credit cards thrown in for good measure. Designer scarves, gloves, even shoes all mixed in together with real garbage like the coffee grounds she found in a Coach satchel. Over and over she asked herself what had happened to her Great Auntie Bev, the wisest, kindest, sweetest, and most organized aunt anyone could ever want.
~~~
Clutching a little black enamel broach tightly in her fist she looked up the local bank on her phone. Open from ten till noon.
First stop in the morning. She needed a safe deposit box. Laughing out loud it occurred to her she might need more than one.
Yes, Auntie Bev had been well-off. Her mother had always said so, in fact, Auntie Bev's wealth had been one of many touchy subjects for her mom.
What else could be in the garage? What else could be in the house?
Maybe nothing, she cautioned herself. This might be the extent of the treasure. But she recalled paintings on the walls and elaborate looking artifacts on tables and shelves. Of course, they might be ruined from neglect or sold years ago.
That’s okay she thought as she bent to retrieve an envelope that had fluttered halfway under the bed as she was sorting through the suitcase.
She cocked her head and opened it. What on earth? Began to read and just as the world began to tilt to the left, everything went dark.
To be continued…
(AN: So sorry this is so short. I thought the deadline was tomorrow. I don't think I've ever written anything so fast in my life. Breathe, Murielle, Breathe!)
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Thank you so much! I'm delighted you're enjoying it. <3
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You've completely captured me with this story and what I love most is how you bring so much more to it! I love the idea that all manner of things were "treasures" to her and who is it exactly that puts the value on a thing???
Keep going!!!
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Thank you so much! I will! I'm as captived by Anne and her aunt as I was by "the family" back in the start of my Idol journey.
So weird about the deadline! I was so confident it was Tuesday. I would totally have missed it without the heads-up I received. (SO grateful for that!)
*Hugs*
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Thank you so much!
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You have to wonder if eventually there was a point when Auntie Bev accidentally began hiding things from herself. I don't know whether hoarders are actually able to remember where they put things or not, once it gets really excessive.
I DO know that if you put things in nonsensical places, you eventually run the risk of "outsmarting" yourself. ;)
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I think, though I don't know, that it starts out small, and then just snowballs into something uncontrollable.
Thank you so much, K. You're comments are always so very thoughtful and inspiring.
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I can't wait for the next part!!
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Thank you so much! <3