The Suitcase

The Suitcase

I am a suitcase, the woman thought trying hard not to cry. Yes, I am like an old and worn out suitcase. I have been rolling from here to there, from one place to another for years and no one wants me. I am tired and I want to go rest somewhere, somewhere where no one will bother me. I have been bothered way too much already. The sun is shining outside today but it is not shining for me. She went to the door, took a look at the messy place she lived in and opened the door. Goodbye, she said. Don’t think it hasn’t been nice cleaning you. It really hasn’t. Let’s be honest. Have nothing to lose now.


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