fyxn
Emptying is often like letting go. You grab hold to all you can find and put it out there on the open. Either if it's put onto a flat table or thrown on the ground, it's still put out there for every one to see. Emptying can therefor in so many ways be seen as letting go, and accepting what was, while welcoming what may.
Dragging open all the drawers made my fragile palms ache. They had told me to take it easy. My fingers roamed every corner of the woody exhibitors. Something caught on my skin as I drew my hands sideways against the raspy wood. A splinter. This just wasn't a time for 'easy'. At this moment all there was was the tiniest hope of light on the other side of the tunnel. It had been a month since the last time I'd seen it, and now I hardly remembered where it was. Frantically I fell on the ground, my hands balling to fists as I desperately clung to the memory I'd do anything to forget. But I had. I had forgotten. I'd begun sweating so huge drops soaked my sweater when the last life force drew my last breath. Thinly, it clung in the air. This, I realized cold, was it.
He looked at it dreadfully. It was not something he wore to signalize his devotion to the gang. He wore it so he could hide behind the spotlight of his title. Behind that cap he knew he was no one. With the cap safely covering his balled skull, he was the most feared man in the ghetto.