In front of that are the rails that make up my bed frame and my mattress. We could have moved these items in a small car.
Most of the things in our apartment—the furniture, Ashley's bed, and almost all the dishes and pots and pans in the kitchen—belong to Jonathan. We were two broke college students, and he was working a full-time job. At the time it made sense he would buy everything, but now as my entire life doesn't come close to filling up a moving truck, it's sadder than I want to admit to myself or anyone else.
"I have extra boxes packed in my car." Ashley looks to me as if she wants me to grab them and add them to the semi, but it won't be enough to help the sad situation.
One mover who'd taken apart my bed steps forward away from the group. "We can move those boxes to the truck.
