Nothing worth keeping was left.

My whole life overseas now fit into three canvas bags on the floor.

I knelt next to the biggest duffel.

I dragged the heavy brass zipper along the canvas track.

The teeth meshed with a loud, rasping sound.

I took hold of the last zipper pull and jerked it closed.

At six in the morning on the dot, the metal plates of the baggage carousel creaked into motion.

I stood beside the oversized baggage chute and watched my green canvas duffel slide down the ramp.