nobody's been in here since the tragedy
("The Tragedy" what a quaint antiseptic way to describe a horrible screaming death)
any friends ask about her?
not that I know
living room is cool, dusty she left the windows open must've wanted to air her apartment while out believing she'd come back (why? for a party? did she entertain a guest who smoked?)
cheap pre-fab blonde wood furniture a couple of tchotchkes to personalize (what do these things mean to her? what did they ever mean?)
she your sister?
that's all right, I hardly knew her my aunt...my aunt is in a nursing home alzheimer's we haven't told her, we can't tell her if you catch my drift
I was the only one in the family free enough to come
yeah, well, sorry
you said that but thanks
a handful of magazines all city lifestyle oriented no books no movies no music
probably had accounts online but that info was in her laptop her smartphone of a thousand different blobs of scorched plastic which used to belong to her?
there's a dining nook odd name for an odd notch a defect in the floor plan turned into an asset by clever marketing
a coffee cup remnants of a bagel she must not have been expecting company after work
in the kitchenette thick mold floating atop cold coffee old coffee maker useless now throw it out
you want that?
you can trash it
what about the rest?
donate it to good will the refrigerator looks new
comes with the apartment
(yeah, I bet it does still, what the fuck am I gonna do with a refrigerator other than give it away?)
quick look for papers address book notes anything
check the bedroom
more cheap blonde furniture
densely packed closet
(gotta look through
all those boxes
I know I won't
super eyes the jewelry box open it nothing but cheap costume jewelry (hmm, maybe this isn't the first time anyone has been in here)
doesn't matter who could benefit off her remains? who would want to?
check the drawers
I hadn't seen her in three / four / five years and then only briefly in passing at her last visit making sure her mom was safe and warm in the home
(why am I babbling to a total stranger? well, she is a mystery to me God knows what we'll find when we look through here let the record show I don't know what to expect)
nothing unusual nothing illegal nothing to provoke a smirk from the super
a neglige nice, but not outrageous something for a college girl (my God, when was she in college? a lifetime ago, I guess)
the rest? pajamas cotton for summer wool for winter
check the bathroom
messiest room in the flat check the medicine cabinet a dozen patent medicines for a dozen patent ailments
whaddya want me to do with all this stuff?
I'm going to look through her things see if there's anything of personal value the family might want
(that's a polite fiction when she was alive we barely knew her a complete cipher now)
donate it to good will keep anything you like (as if you haven't already) ditch the rest
check the toilet
there, clinging to the porcelain bowl streaks of shit she must have been in a hurry that morning no time to put cup and plate in the sink no time to flush again to get rid of those last bits
that's the real tragedy, isn't it? a whole life time and nothing to show for it but shit stains
why delay the inevitable punchline?
(c) Buzz Dixon