Now that it was all hers, she wanted none of it.
She didn’t give an iota for questions or neighbors’ looks.
Out went the furniture. The clothing. The towels.
The reminders of swindlers and rooks.
She got rid of the bedding, the shelving,
The whole kit and caboodle in numerous crannies and nooks.
There was naught in the house for her
But memories of pain and emotional hooks.
She cleaned out the lot
And left only the books.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Caboodle in 78 words