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New Soil

I called it In Their Place.

Tamsin came on opening day with champagne.

“The name’s a little threatening, Lorna.

Everyone else calls theirs ‘The Magic of Tidying,’ and you sound like a judge handing down sentences.”

I laughed and popped the cork.

“I just help people put the baggage back where it belongs.”

My first client was a frayed woman in her late forties, fresh out of a brutal divorce of her own, standing in a new apartment among a mountain of boxes.

She broke down.

“I thought I just didn’t know how to fold a shirt,” she wept.

“It turns out I’ve never once been able to get my own life in order.” I handed her tea and a tissue and understood, standing there, that I wasn’t color-coding closets at all.

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