Hoard

I swear I’ll never move house again.
Okay, there was the expanding family, more space.
Except there isn’t really more space.
It’s just that the detritus from my previous life expands like an explosion in a junk shop
to fill every available crevice.
I can’t throw anything away though.
I might need it.
Those little screws, washers, unidentifiable little rubber grommet things.
I know if I discard them, the very next day there will be something to mend,
and I will have thrown away the only thing that will fix it….

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Peet Clack

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