De-cluttered

Louisa walked from room to room. Empty. It had taken three months from that evening in the pub when the conversation turned to travel and the reasons against.

Louisa tuned out and focused on a group of young people walking into the pub. They were all carrying rucksacks and looked vaguely grubby and dishevelled. Even so, as they entered the fresh air came in with them. They looked alive. They were living in the moment, not worrying about jobs and mortgages. Louisa looked back at her friends. They often met after work and over the years had become comfortable with each other, sharing stories about their lives. Quite conventional lives, really, with jobs, partners, children and pets.

The very next day, she set about dismantling the structure of her life and getting rid of stuff. She gave in her notice at work, put the flat on the market and started to sell her possessions on e-bay. First the contents of the wardrobe. Dresses worn once and smelling faintly of perfume were photographed and put up for auction. Most of the shoes went to charity shops. Ornaments, books, CDs, all were liberated and sent off in search of new homes.

As the flat emptied, Louisa began to enjoy the space. She danced around the rooms, delighting as her voice echoed back from bare walls. Finally, it was all gone. She had one bag packed with a few clothes and important documents. She walked out of the door, down the stairs and out into the street. Ten minutes later, she was handing her keys in at the estate agents. She had no plan. She just wanted to start again with as little baggage as possible.

She went into a café, ordered a coffee, picked up a paper and sat down. Taking a dice from her pocket, she rolled it across the table. Page four. She scanned the page. Jedward return to Dublin. OK, Dublin it is.