Hang Your Hat [closed]

[Victoria Jefferson]

They were ugly as hell, moving trucks. But the men who were working the one parked outside the cute little blue house weren't. Victoria allowed herself a moment of appreciation towards them while she pulled her yellow jeep (the happy truck) into the drive way and parked it.

At that particular moment then moving men were muscling her over-stuffed couch into the house to put in the living room. From apartment to house. The mortgage payment wasn't any higher than her rent had been, and there would be more space. She would miss the apartment, but needed to shift to another location. Not because of the job she'd been offered and accepted, it was only a ten-minute difference in commute time, but because it hurt to stay.

The apartment had been home to her sister and herself. A two-woman unit living in harmony and much laughter.

Patricia's memory had been everywhere in the old place. It wouldn't leave just because Vikki had moved, all of the furniture and trappings were the same. But it was a new start.

"You'd love it here. It's so cute," she murmured aloud while extracting herself from the jeep and heading inside.

There was a lot more space than the apartment had, but it would be filled. In time.

Moving around the boxes and furniture that had already been moved inside, Vikki gave herself another little tour, being mindful to keep her out-loud comments to herself. People who talked to themselves were often fitted with nifty little white jackets. Not a fashion accessory she was particularly looking for.

It would take a while, but the house would become her home. She'd throw herself into work in the same way some people threw themselves into vacation. It was for a cause. A REASON. For people like her sister.

Metas.

It was time and past for them to be a recognized, accepted part of the world. Time. And. Past.

"Let's get started shall we?"