Their House Wants To Breathe

Their house wants to breathe. It wants to shake off boxes of unsorted papers, bags of art supplies for the schools. The house would rather have the books than these white temporary boxes. The books are neat in storage, complete. The incomplete junk fills the house. The mother and the daughter move around junk, stumbling sometimes. Who is going to pick up the junk and throw the stuff away? When will they be able to walk from the hallway through the living room through the dining room through the kitchen to the hallway again, so that the house can breathe?

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