I’ve inherited my parents’ house, which has the feel of my house in Iowa. I’m going through the contents and trying to determine what to keep and what to get rid of, whittling it away to space. There are a lot of strange and ugly objects from decades ago. One thing is a four foot tall orange lacquered wooden swan that is some type of oil infuser. There is a small cupboard like a bread box with an assortment of small bottles of essential oil inside. I’m sorting through them and taking off the caps to sniff and trying to read the labels, but I can hardly smell anything at all. I have already cleared out a lot of the crap that had been in the house. I’m pointing out to someone the shelves around the room and at the top of a closet and describing how they had been crowded and stacked with stuff. Now they are empty. I’m trying to find a place to put a small rabbit figurine. I’m standing at a table in the kitchen and wondering whether my sister, who is in town for grad school, will come be my roommate. Otherwise I’m not sure I can afford to live here by myself.