The Suitcase That Bit Me

Some people live their lives out of a Suitcase. We are all different in that respect.

My wife has a priority when traveling about her and her suitcase. She unpacks hers as one of her first things, organizing which things go where, and to whom.

I never want to unpack mine while traveling. I would rather leave well enough alone, and deal with things like they are.

Right now, in my non-traveling state, my suitcase is occupying way too much space on the floor. We are not in agreement, my suitcase and I. Things are not like they should be, with it wanting to bite me, every time I walk past it.

“Don’t bite the knees that pack you”, I’ve said to it, but it continues to make my life miserable all the same.

The time grows closer to my departure. My suitcase grows more sullen, and is subject to dark fits of anger. I’ve told Wonder Dog to stay away from it, lest he be sucked inside, never to see the light of day again!

The new morning dawns. As it should.

Wonder Dog growls. I am in the Breakfast Way, rubbing my pre-travel thoughts out of my eyes.

He growls again. “What is it young fellow?” I ask, not thinking that it is more than just a reminder that a walk hasn’t happened,  but start to worry when I see the door to the office ajar.

Cautiously, I enter the room, where my suitcase is residing. An eerie darkness pervades the room. At the place, where I usually kick the suitcase, the floor seems empty and screaming of want.

I turn on the light, holding the nearest object of menacing power in my hands as I do so. Wonder Dog looks up at me, wondering why he has been chosen for this moment in time?

The room is empty of evil. Plain and simple. The floor shines like the top of the Chrysler Building, not wanting anything to cover it up again. Not ever.

The curtains flap in the morning breeze. The window stands open, with nary a trace of exiting luggage.

“It’s gone” I tell Wonder Dog, who seems to smile his Dog’s smile at that thought.

The sores on my legs are starting to heal now. They remain as a memory of a suitcase that was, but now wasn’t.

Wonder Dog sleeps a Dog’s sleep, biting the air once in a while just to be sure.

“Don’t show your sorry self around here anymore”, he seems to say.

While I. I need to find a new suitcase for my trip.

And appeal to its gentler side….

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