(written by Delirias)

The posh neighborhood on her route to school had a knack for garage sales. Children’s clothes, vintage wares, and whatever expensive things the rich people wanted to throw away but still wanted to make money out of.  She has been passing by the grand old houses with the lawns and the security guards for as long as she can remember. Today, her favorite house put up the “Garage Sale” sign and she stopped the car so she can at least take a peek at what the grandiose Spanish house looked like up close.

She would have marveled at how well-designed the house was but on the table, there was a silver vase with a lid that sat quietly in the corner. The people in the garage sale were flocking toward the clothes and shoes but she found the vase more interesting that a new pair of stilettos.

It was intricately made – a gold band about a third from the neck of the vase like it was a vase crafted by ancient Greeks. She wondered how a family could throw away such an expensive vase for such a cheap price. So she buys it, goes to her car, and goes home.


As she parks her car in their garage, she remembers her new purchase. It looked a little forlorn as if time wasn’t good to it. Not dusty, just neglected.  She goes to their patio and lights a cigarette after placing the vase on the table.  Her ashtray is gone which means her mother knows she’s smoking again so she resolves to use the new vase as an ashtray. She takes the lid off and taps the ash into it. She feels the guilt knowing that her mother will commence with her vendetta against her smoking as soon as she sees the ash on her flower bed again.

Well, fuck that, she says to herself and empties out the ash onto the flowerbed, only it was a too much ash for her cigarette. It was like she smoked twenty packs worth of ash or even more.

The realization dawns on her, Oh, God.

She had just dumped the remains of someone on her mother’s flowerbed.

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