moving sale

Moving sale? Not the hell it could have been … not totally

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My arty garage sale signs, which mostly fell apart in the dark of night as I pounded them into the ground. Once again, duct tape saves Fumbling Man.
My arty garage sale signs, which mostly fell apart in the dark of night, as I pounded them into the ground. Once again, duct tape saves Fumbling Man.

Behind the dark bug-eye sunglasses lurked a face, young or old, I don’t know.  But there was a deep world-weary sigh every time she heard the price of a lamp or a pan or a book at the yard sale.

It was if life itself had betrayed her once more. “How? How? How could this lamp I so desire be $15?” her sigh seemed to say.

“Would you take seven?” is what she actually said. Read the rest of this entry »