“I have no idea what you want me to do with all this stuff,” said Lisa. Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked around the four walls. She was knee deep in equipment, boxes, ragged furniture. Where should she begin? Her head itched and it felt like a thousand birds flew out of her hair. They didn’t have anywhere else to go either. They just kept circling.
Lisa opened the door and let the birds out. They flew out on the frigid wind, thank God.
“Give me a box cutter. I have to start somewhere. This world won’t ever be beautiful, but I can slash through some debris.” Lisa spent the next hour cutting down boxes. Slashing. She had to get rid of everything. The clutter was killing her, trapping her soul. She had to set herself free.
Lisa slashed, stacked, and smashed boxes until she had a small compact pile. She could almost breathe easily. Now she needed them removed. Nobody helped her before, nobody was going to help her now. The birds pecked at the window reminding her of that. She was frustrated.
Lisa’s stack of boxes was impressive against the bare floor of her storage room. She’d accomplished more than she thought she had, but it wasn’t enough. They were still in the room and she wanted them out. Where were those birds when she needed them?
Devonne Brown 
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