Forever Sunday

"You name it he had it.” She continues “Old books, parcel boxes, moving boxes, Styrofoam flocks, polypropylene bags, small plastic turtles, tote bags, tie wraps, rubber bands, electricity cables, educational clocks, barbies, novels, dictionaries, crocked wheels, old locks, soft toys, abandoned play houses, plastic straws, periodic tables, golden trollies, greasy remote controls, paperbacks about young professionals, invites for important marches in big cities, boring biographies and memoirs, heated outdoor houses for feral rabbits, duffel bags with plastic windows for travelling cats or rodents, hammocks for small and medium sized teenagers, packaging of cigarettes his daughters used to smoke, photos of young faces now old, small furniture loved by unknown toddlers, postcards with portraits of royal babies, ashes of a cat called Dusty, tired potpourri - Thank you! Karina, that will do. A junior nightshifter pointing at his greek salad interrupts the woman. “You are ruining my appetite.”