There's a hurricane coming, and we're feeling the effects. My big tree outside my window is rustling and bending. I love that tree. I loved typing here and looking out at it. I haven't had a second floor in I don't know how long.
This is my last hour in this house. I have a hamper full of clean laundry in the car, and two bags packed. I also am taking the coffeemaker, because addict. Tonight instead of coming...here (I wanted to say "home"), I will drive to Kaye's.
When I drive away from here this morning, I am determined not to look at this beautiful house in my rear-view mirror. I have loved this house. Looking back at it will likely kill me.
So I have to be the strong black woman that I am and drive away without looking back.
That's the end of that chapter.
