NovelEnglishChapter 200 Where can I find their memories now? "Felicia," someone called out toat the entrance of the hallway.
It was the landlady from across the hall.
No need to ask, I knew she was here because of the demolition news.
"Felicia, it's such a shthis place is getting torn down," she sighed, a rare display of emotion from her.
I had no words, just a face full of sadness. The landlady continued, "I just spent a fortune fixing up the place. It hasn't even been rented out for a month and now we have to kick people out. Such a loss." I said nothing.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Felicia, I've been trying to reach the young man renting from me, but he's not answering. If you see him today, could you tell him to givea call? And let him know about the demolition so he can start looking for a new place and get his things in order," The landlady requested.
"Sure," I agreed.
"Thank you, Felicia," The landlady was polite, but then she couldn't help but gossip, "You've met the young man renting my place, right? He's a decent guy, isn't he?" I couldn't help but smirk, "He's alright." "Such high standards, Felicia. To think such a fine young man is just 'alright' to you. If I had a daughter, I'd want him as a son-in-law," The landlady obviously had a soft spot for Ernest.
"You could always have another," I teased her.
Normally, she might have taken offense, but there had been a buzz recently about a woman in her sixties having a baby, which made the news. The landlady just laughed, "I don't have the energy for that anymore, you're teasing me." I just smiled, while she went on, "You should start packing up as well. Get rid of what you don't need, sell what you can. I have a guy who deals in second-hand goods, pays well and is very reliable. I'll give you his number. You can sell him whatever you don't need." Her enthusiasm made it hard to refuse.
The landlady lefta number and went on her way. I headed upstairs.
Opening the door, I was met with a flood of memories, and my eyes instantly welled up with tears.
Sthings, it seems, you can't keep even if you want to.
Dad always said, let go of what you can't keep. I knew the demolition was inevitable, so after a brief. moment of sadness, I started to look around the house, beginning the process of packing up.
I decided to start with the storeroom, leaving my room and my parents' room untouched for now.
While sorting things out, I made up my mind to buy my own place soon, so I could move my parents' belongings there.
The old 10 Chelf, the tricycle I used to ride a child, the gardening tools my parents used, Dad's fishing gear, Mom's easel...
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmEach item, though old, was something I couldn't bear to part with.
While I was packing up, I felt even more the need to find a place for these memories.
At the bottom of a pile, I found an old wicker basket. I remembered it well because have a photo ofsitting on it. Dad said it was his backpack when he left the orphanage, akin to a suitcase back in the day.
I opened it to find Dad's navy blue vest, which madethink of Ernest's green vest.
Beneath the vest was a notebook, clipped with a pen. I opened it and recognized Dad's handwriting The familiarity made my breath catch.
Tears fell, blurring the ink on the page.
I hastily tried to wipe them away, but in doing so, dropped the notebook. Something fell out.
I picked it up. It was a contract. Flipping through it, when I saw the signatures and the seal at the end, I froze. Ashburn
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