Of Course It's A Lie

Belongings

Nunoe sat at her desk, trying to concentrate on her make-up homework. Her bedroom was of average size. There was a video game computer perched on a bookshelf, in which one row was devoted to video game CDs. It was mostly empty, but the absence of dust meant it hadn't been empty for long. The other rows were filled with various books, all of the "Teach Yourself To" or "DIY" category. Nunoe's lack of street and book smarts alike didn't give her much chance to read fiction for fun. For as long as she could remember, she'd had to figure out shortcuts to stumble her way through the mundane struggles of living.

Currently, a tattered book titled "Everything You Need to Know For Second-Year English" was propped up against the keepsake box on her desk. She was staring at its yellowing pages intently, trying to grasp the vague concept of subject and predicate. She was just on the verge of passing this class, and with only a few weeks left, she didn't have much time to make the cut.

Her keepsake box was cute and rectangular. It was originally woodcut, but over time, she'd glued various gift wrapping and ribbons to its tan, gritty surface to give it a more personal look. Stickers and pins collected over the years were taped onto its little walls.

In the box was a little velvet cushion on which lay many little things. A couple bracelets, most made of colorful yarn and one, the newest and least worn, from artistically arranged metal and clay and wire, lay there on the cushion. The sides of the inside of the box were covered almost exclusively with tiny photographs that had cost quite some money to get printed on such fine cardstock. Some spare change and a few bits of confetti collected off the sidewalk during a long-forgotten party dotted the insides of the box. Some other odds and ends, like a little plastic silver key on a little plastic silver keychain, a tiny collection of painted marbles, a miniature pink watering can, and other such things that probably had a story to their acquisition littered the keepsake box's insides.

The box's top, unlike the video game rack, was shrouded in a fine layer of dust.