The Party’s Always Over

I went to Stephenville, Texas to help my sister pack. The house, compared to my house in the city, was filthy. The dog kept tracking mud from the rain that had been relentless these past few days. I used trash bags to empty my sister’s closet. I would count seven or eight hangers and then group them together, folding them into the bags. After loading my car with as much of her belongings as I could manage, I began making the return journey. On…