Movers

Steven sighed as he watched the movers struggle with the couch. It was clearly to wide for the door as it was and yet they had not figured out that turning it on it's side was an option. He could not believe that he was paying these people to move his entire life. He never trusted anyone with so much as his umbrella. Now here were a number of large, men, tossing around his vintage vinyls and furniture as if they were sacks of rice.

He had been dreading this day for a long time, and it had finally come. He had been so, so comfortable in his old surroundings, with his familiar things and faces. He did not like his neighbors, but at least he knew them. This new abode promised new people that Steven would have to pretend to get along with, new paths to learn, new things to try not and see. He would have to learn all the new places to get food from on Netflix, and a find a new path to get to work.

It was the little things that bothered him the most. He loathed having to change his address with his bank, his work, the electrical company, and all the other places that required it. They should have to find that information out for themselves. Why should he have to do it? Also, this whole moving thing was too much for him. That he was paying these ogres to destroy his belongings was just too much to deal with.

He watched again as they finally got the sofa in. They had completely scratched the sides of both the door frame and the couch in the process. Susan, oblivious to the damage, squealed with delight as the last item was moved into place. It was over, mercifully, at long last, over. Now, the long, hard task of unpacking lay ahead. Steven shuddered as he thought of how long it would take him to get everything exactly right.