Starter for @ycuthleader
It was down to the very last box, and then she’d be finally, officially moved in. Perhaps it was a good thing that nearly everything she owned could be fit into a single van. Everything else was done and good for. She’d been on the road for countless of hours, driving away through one state to another just to reach her destination. One should’ve perhaps argued against it, as some did, suggesting for her to take a plane and hire a company to help her move. But what was the point? She could do it herself, so she might as well. The cap she wore upon her head did a well enough job to shield her from the afternoon sun. Her sleeves of her blue t-shirt strained slightly against her muscles as she took the particularly heavy box inside. By the time she’d gone and moved the flat-screen TV into the house, she’d begun to feel the burn in her arms. But it was nothing. After having spent past five years in the Air Force, she was no stranger for a good bit of labor and exercise. Her house was perhaps one of the smallest ones in the cul-de-sac. It was only one-story tall, with a nice patio at the front and back. It had three bedrooms (one of them would be converted to something else), two bathrooms, and an open kitchen connected to the living room. It was cozy, not too big. And just for herself, she didn’t need much else. She was sure some had stopped and taken a glance or two; she was a woman in her early thirties, and she’d been moving her things from the van to her house by a while now. And, as it proved out from the lack of company, she was moving everything completely alone. Not that she minded, in fact. After the whole mess she’d left behind where her home had been, the silence and solitude was definitely appreciated. Well, except for the AC/DC blasting from her earbuds. They were company enough. The best kind of company.
