Unpacking

Fiction

The third dart hit solid wire and bounced to the floor of the garage with a loud snap.

“I’m gonna have to carpet this stretch or I’ll be buying new shafts every other week.”

Derek chalked his score from the first two darts, then picked up the errant one.

“Your darts and your books…and me of course…seem to be the only things you care about,” Carmen said. “You have almost no keepsakes from your childhood. I unpacked the last box this morning. You have a storage unit I don’t know about?”

Derek shook his head, smiling.

“Nope. There’s a letter in my briefcase I should probably show you, but other than that, you, books, and darts are pretty much it, in that order.”

Carmen threw a bed and breakfast, scored, pulled her darts. She hoped Derek would install better lighting when he put in the carpet.

“What’s the letter about?”