By Rach*

I pulled the dresser out of my closet when he'd left. I pulled it out with my bad arm. Pushed it infront of my door. All with my bad arm. After all, that wasn't the one I needed to look after. Preserve. My bad arm would rest while I slept.
If I slept.
I walked around to the far-side of my bed. Where the bay-window was. Pulled and kicked the cot out, then stepped back to clear a path for it to ride. My toe was beginning to hurt now. And my back started to ache. But all these things I was used to by now. I kicked the cot into place in front of my dresser. I looked around. Yes, that handles my main door...But what about the sliding door? The dresser against the wall oppostie my bed caught my eye.
Hm. That would work.
But I had to clear space. Lots of space, since there was so much junk in front nd around it. I sighed and sat down on my bed. Turned on the radio. Grabbed a peice of paper and a pen.
And that brings us to present time.
I turned the radio off and cast a look at the dresser. All the things around it. A thought hit me: How do you shut off a sliding door? I could lock it, but there were keys. I could push the dresser against the handle, that could work.
I got up and started to clear away the junk from around the dresser.
I grabbed folders and peices of paper and dumped them infront of the bookshelf. Then I went back and got piles of clothes and threw then in my wardrobe. With all this getting up and kneeling down, the joints in my knees were screaming.
I ignored it.
I pulled the dresser up towards my bookshelf. Its a heavy old dresser and I had to hold it very tight. Another strain on my already old bones. The knuckles and other joints in my left hand had gone red and were so fixed in place that if I had not known better I would have suspected Arthritis.
But I knew better.
The curtains needed to be pulled so that they weren't all scrunched up together. I pulled them. I must admit with all my furniture next to eachother and not so spread out, my room looked much more spacious. I stepped back to admire my work and then sat back down on my bed. I took the peice of paper and pen in my cramped hands and began to write again.
And once more, this brings us to present time.


2o.2.o1 C Rachel*