Moving Day
Jordan wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air, climbed up into the back of the large, moving truck. There was one singular box left in the long, metal truck, in the far back. She made her way to the back, and bent down, grasping her hands on both sides of the larger box. Lifting it with her legs, and not with her back, remembering all the times her mother got on her for destroying her back at an early age, she lifted the box to her torso. She climbed out of the truck, and looked at the entrance of her new home. It was a modest, two story, brownstone in the heart of New York City. A lot of people wondered how she was able to afford such an expensive, and high class place, but she never answered them, preferring it to remain a mystery. The truth was she inherited enough money to put a down payment on her own house, and the situation lined up just right for her to purchase this place. It was the first time she had ever had a place that she could call her own. No roommates, no family, just her and her dog, Pugsy.
