April 3rd, 2010 
judowolf The older man had a mission assigned to him by the Empress (his beloved wife), which was to clean the garage. Standing in the middle of the garage, he viewed the damage and realized this mission was going to take all his expertise, knowledge, wisdom, strength, and a multitude of trash bags.
The biggest challenge was the pile of boxes containing nine years of unused items. His only advantage was that the Empress had not requested to look in every box. This was unlike her as she was the ultimate hoarder, where as he just threw away everything they didn’t use. The Empress viewed old items as treasures which carried emotional significance; the older man saw it as junk, taking up room, and not carrying any emotional ties what so ever.
Moving over to the far wall he attacked the boxes with a vengeance. He brought them to the middle of the garage so he could open, peruse the inside, seal them back up, and carry them to the curb for the trash man. After putting the tenth box out he decided it was time for a smoke. The older man lit up, inhaled deeply, blow a couple of smoke rings, and glanced at the back wall to see how much he had left. Three boxes were sitting on top of the old drop leaf table which belonged to his grandmother.
The table had three legs shaped like palm fronds, a huge center piece resembling a pineapple, and two leafs hanging down the sides that could be brought up separately or together to increase the size of the table. Walking over to the table, he took the boxes off, pulled the leaf closes to him, and to his amazement it opened and locked in place. Bending over, a grin crossed his lips as he saw the large hose clamp surrounding the pineapple to keep the table together. His father had put it there ages ago when they had been moving from one house to another after his grandfather dropped it going down the stairs. Dragging on his smoke, he guessed the table was at least 70 years old, but the damage was so sever it should go out with the rest of the boxes. He stepped on his cigarette as it hit the floor, grabbed the table by the ends, raised it from the floor, stopped, and put it back down. Turning, he went to the other three boxes, opened them, and quickly dispatched them to the curb.
Three hours passed and the older man was getting close to the end of his mission when the Empress opened the door, and asked him how he was doing? Seeing he was almost done she stepped out into the garage, surveyed the area, said he was doing a good job, and asked where the stuff was they would be keeping. Anticipating this, the older man put a few boxes aside with the stuff she would be looking for. She walked over and opened the first box and began a nostalgia trip down memory lane. The older man sat down next to her, watched her go through the first and second box, and then she noticed the boxes on the curb. She asked what was in them, and he said just some old stuff they no longer needed.
The Empress was quiet for a few moments, and he was sure she was going to walk out there, but didn’t as she was distracted by the drop leaf table. Wasn’t that your grandmothers she asked? He replied it was, and was probably going to throw it away. He had been lugging it around for the past thirty years; it was broken, and worthless. His mother didn’t want to get rid of it, but had no room to store it. The Empress gave the old man the look, the one telling him she knew he would do the right thing, and then walked back into the house.
Some of the boxes were out on the curb; the survivors were sitting in the middle of the garage waiting for their new resting place. Lighting up another smoke, the older man glanced over at the drop leaf table – went over and picked it up. Walking toward the garage door a trickle of past memories began to swirl around in his mind, and before he knew it the memory flood spilled over. Putting the table down he bathed in the memories and realized how important the table had become. It was no longer functional but it was not taking up much room either. Picking it up again, he put it back in its place and the remaining boxes on top of it.
He swept the floor, shut the garage door, and just before he turned off the light saw the hose clamp holding the table together, and knew it was not yet time to take the table to the curb.
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