She gingerly smoothed the last shirt in the suitcase before she zipped it shut. The luggage tag had the address of the charity where it would end up.
She sat down with the case beside the chair and looked around the room with a nostalgic, yet wry, smile. The counter tops were clear. The tchotchkes were all gone. The closet was empty. The last thing was this suitcase.
The moment passed, and she pushed out of the recliner, grabbing the handle to the suitcase. Setting it into the hall, she turned back for one last look. No one will ever know I was here.
As she turned the key in the lock, she laughed. When they dig me up, they will go looking for the lock the key fits. Giggling at the irony, she tossed the key and caught it as she walked away for the last time.
We are in the middle of the last month of the 150-word upper limit. Featuring the word go, this one ducks under the wire at 148.
There are still two weeks left before the deadline. Are your flashes in already? If not, you have until 2359 on 30SEP13 to get them here. No late entries will be accepted.
What is the irony? From what is she walking away? Is there something more sinister here than what you originally suspected?
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