Forgotten Spaces

[Susie Quinn]

She shook her head, "No, no. The staff is going to be in the attics looking for things to donate."

Susie bit her lower lip, stuffing her hands in her cardigan's pockets and pulling it around her tightly. "That's the rumor. Tomorrow." She looked away from Tom, and down at her knees. What would she do without this place?

[Tom Lankey]

As Susie divulged her latest revelation, Tom's incredulous face cemented itself in an expression of stoniest brooding, and he feel silent for a spell. Chunky fingers interlaced and wild eyes stared into empty space as if a solution was manifesting itself before him. An epiphany dawned on his rubbery features. He sprung upright, and with strides full of intent he crossed the room to a stack of bulging cardboard boxes.

"They're not havin' my Tom and Jerry videos!" he declared, rifling feverishly through one of the boxes, "A fuckin' jumble sale! What limp-dicked window licker came up with that one, eh?"

After rescuing his collection of video casettes from the bowels of an old bin bag, Tom now lumbered towards a large oak chest, long-neglected and grey with dust, the chest opened with a weary groan. An unholy din followed as its contents were disgorged onto the threadbare carpet. Drunk with frustration, Tom wheeled around on Susie, still cradling his cartoon collection in one massive arm.

"This is Winters," he fired up, knowingly, "That podgy specky twonk! He won't be satisfied until he's sucked every last ounce of happiness out of this shit hole! Who gives a flying fuck about St. Joseph's school of bible-bashers and the... sexually-repressed? Charity might be all well and good and that, Susie, but there's a time and a place. It's not supposed to sweep into our homes, uninvited, and nick all our fuckin' stuff! Can't we have nothin'!?"

An animated shrug punctuated the end of his hysterical rant, he glanced down to find his audience of one looking just about as impassive as ever, and with an exasperated sigh, he skulked back into the maze of junk.

"I can't find my fuckin' Ghostbusters."

[Susie Quinn]

Susie impassively watched Tom tear apart their attic space, and then she got up and walked past him to a broken down wardrobe. Pulling it open she poked her head inside and rummaged through the detritus held within.

"It's almost dinner time," she said, her voice muffled. "Where are you going to put..." Susie withdrew and turned toward Tom, holding out the Ghostbusters VHS he'd been looking for, "...all this?"