Thirty-Six Pages of Bank Receipts and the Chicago Mortgage Transfer I Finally Canceled

“I’m just tidying up,” I said.

“Make sure you lock the side door,” he said.

“My new computer rig is worth nine hundred dollars, and I don’t need cold air coming up through the floorboards.”

He stepped back into the kitchen and let the heavy door swing closed.

I didn’t wait.

I pulled the last two folders, marked Bank Receipts 2021 through 2023, out of the bottom drawer, dropped them into the bin, and pressed the thick yellow lid down until all four corners snapped shut.

I carried the heavy plastic bin out the side door into the dark driveway.