Saving Rain

by Kelsey Kingsley

Little by little, the trailer started to look more like a home and less like a condemned wreck. With every paycheck, I bought something else to help the renovation along—a can of paint here, an area rug there. I snagged a hand-me-down couch from Mrs. Henderson and an old coffee table from Harry’s other daughter, Pamela. On my way home one day, I found a few perfectly good lamps on the side of the road, and on another occasion, I uncovered a decent dining table that just needed some sanding and a fresh coat of paint. After a couple of months of working at The Fisch Market, I’d saved enough money to get myself an actual mattress. And just like that, the bedroom looked more like what it was intended to be and less like a dungeon. Needless to say, of everything I’d accomplished in my life—the good stuff, I mean—I was the proudest of this.