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Its backseat was piled with boxes and baskets but no one was around outside.
In the street was a beat up looking blue Fiesta that was garishly covered in bumper stickers, obviously driven by a teenager.
The moving truck was being unloaded by some guys in uniforms. He hastily searched the piles of papers, boxes and equipment strewn around his work station until his eyes finally picked out the long black strap attached to his binoculars and he snatched them up.
He slowly made his way down his porch steps with Kippers trying to drag him forward.There was a plethora of dangling knick-knacks hanging from the mirror that ranged from crystals to dead flowers.There were pictures of friends thumb-tacked to the ceiling and writing on almost every surface that looked like it had been done with a set of paint pens.As he walked out his door he could see that they had indeed arrived.The moving truck had left, and a glossy black convertible Mustang was parked in the drive.