Rummage Sale Short Story

1130 Words5 Pages
Rummage Sale 5:00 - 8:00pm, the red and white sign read. I took a deep breath and stepped up onto the porch. I peeked through the screen door and stared at the swarms of people pilfering through my great-grandmother’s house. I was outraged, even though I knew it was a rummage sale, and that’s what people do at rummage sales - pilfer. I took my son to play in the yard - I wasn’t ready to deal with those vultures yet. “Where’s Elizabeth and Gabe?” My aunt Glenna called out. Through the screen door, I could see Aunt Glenna standing in the middle of a huge swarm of rummagers, like a queen be in the middle of her hive. She was wearing a money apron around her waist. “We’re out here in the yard,” I hollered back. “The crowd…show more content…
The smell of cedar and dusting powder made me smile. Momaw always kept her secret treasures in her old, cedar wardrobe. Once in awhile, she would open it up and let me play in her hats, robes, and shoes. I felt like a queen in her clothes. I opened the box of Emeraude dusting powder - the only scent she ever wore - and rubbed some on my wrist. On Sunday mornings, after brushing my hair, she would give me a puff or two of her powder. I inhaled my wrist and laughed as I remembered the fuzzy puff in my face and choking on powder dust. That’s when I noticed Momaw’s orange quilt lying across her bed. I snatched it up and hid it upstairs. She used to put that quilt out on her bed every winter. Before bedtime, she would get it out and tell me where each piece of cloth came from. This piece from your grannie’s dress, that one from Uncle Norm’s pajamas, that blue piece here came from Aunt Glenna’s dress. Momaw knew where each scrap of fabric came from. I wish I could remember them all now. I sat down on my aunt’s bed, thinking of how lucky I have…show more content…
I was lucky enough to become close to my great-grandmother, or Momaw, as she liked to be called. She has been part of my life since the day I was born, and now, 25 years later, it kills me to see her in a nursing home. But that’s just it. I haven’t seen her in the nursing home. I know I should, and the reason is purely selfish. Aunt Glenna said that if I visit her, not to expect her to know me. I am not prepared to deal with that yet. I am not ready to let her go. But if she passes and I don’t get to see her, I know I won’t be able to live with myself. She has had 95 wonderful years, and now it is time to say goodbye. Downstairs a man was carrying out a bookcase, and a chubby little woman was negotiating the price of some luggage. How could they be so callous about going through someone’s home? Don't they know they are rummaging through the pieces of someone’s life? Pieces of my life. My aunt was standing in the center of it all, with the money apron wrapped around her waist shouting out directions. “The prices are as marked,” she shouted. I wanted to scream. I had to get
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