Alice set the letter on the table alongside her cup of tea. It did not seem possible that Great Aunt Alice could be dead. She inhaled a draft of air-conditioned kitchen atmosphere, causing her bones to rattle. The chill passed through her muscles and ribs and pierced her broken heart. Somehow, she sensed this chill would become a familiar presence in her life. Hoping to ease the cold that was now settling into her chest, Alice sipped at her tea. It did well enough to stop her shivering, but it was not enough to subside the chill seeped into her bones.
Alice was in her room, deciding which items to shove in her luggage. She now only had two days until she headed off to school. Packing suitcases was something Alice hated with a passion. It took a lot out of you. Deciding what to bring, what to leave. Rifling through clothes and items as well as memories. And now as she sorted through her wardrobe, all her clothes began to remind her of great aunt Alice. The pink chiffon blouse with the brass buttons was given to her at the last tea party she attended. In many ways, she found the blouse hideous, but secretly, she liked it a little. It was very Victorian and made her feel like a girl, a feeling that did not strike her often. But that blouse couldn't go with her to school. There'd be no room for it in the suitcase, or her new "artsy" lifestyle. She carefully laid it aside and resumed rummaging through her closet. Eventually, it became obvious that Alice was sick of her clothes. As colorful and eclectic as her wardrobe was, she'd worn each piece so many times, it was becoming dull. The African print skirt, the sequined tanks, the bright yellow hoodie, all looked so unappealing. This is why I find packing ridiculous, she thought. Now she had even more bull to deal with, and this was just the trivial stuff. Alice pulled down all her clothes and shoved them into her suitcase. She was going to put off packing until tomorrow. Today, she would drink tea.