Bag Lady By SJI Holliday
Margie loved to shop.
Prada, Dior, Hermes; even a little of bit of M&S never went amiss; well, only the Autograph collection. It didn’t matter what she bought. She loved it all; the choosing, the queuing up with an armful of clothes, the little chat with the girl behind the till as she wrapped and bagged and told her to ‘have a nice day.’ She didn’t have much else. Since her beloved husband Harry had passed away, she’d had little to do except spend all the money he’d left her. He’d hoarded it for years. They’d never gotten around to having children to spend it on.
She hummed a little tune as she walked up the garden path. She’d discovered John Lewis. What a find! Practically desiccated from her busy day, she went straight into to the kitchen to put the kettle on, slid into her pink silky slippers and padded through to the garage to deal with her wares; her usual happy ritual.
It was a garage on the outside, but on the inside it was Aladdin’s Cave. The small room was lined wall to wall, floor to ceiling with her purchases. It was lucky she was thin, or she’d never have been able to squeeze through the aisles within the maze of packaging hedgerows. Everything was still neatly encased in their boxes and bags; she didn’t want anything getting dirty. She was smiling as she placed her latest cluster of carrier bags on top of a pile. She’d need a bigger garage soon.
She was still humming to herself as she turned and headed back towards the kitchen for her well-deserved cuppa; so she never heard the faint plasticky rustle that started the full cascade.
When they found her later, pink slippers poking out from beneath a pile of Versace hatboxes, she still had a smile on her face.
She often said she wanted to be buried with all her nice things around her.
Copyright SJI Holliday 2011
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