The closet is empty and full. It holds clothes, shoes, boxes, and bags. Sparkles and slink, leather and jeans.
Piles of dusty boxes adorn the shelves. She has everything organized and color coded. She is thinking of installing a mirror in there.
She is planning to have sex in there one day, too. She also needs to go through her Winter sweaters.
The floggers make the entire closet smell like leather heaven. And she’d just recently treated her rope and whips. It gave her a thrill to see her fancy dresses, petticoats, high heels, and corsets to hang alongside her toys and jeans. Her closet was an exact representation of who she was. And it suited her fine if a little dust collected on the boxes.
Oh but not that box. That one in the back, it needed special care. It got dusted and opened and dusted again. Then she set it back carefully. Closing the lid gently. She didn’t want to disturb the contents of that box.
It looked empty. But trust me, it was full to the brim.
The box was full of darkness. Monsters. Molesters. Demons. Disasters. All tucked away neatly. Until dark, when the lid came flying off.
Its where she kept her Grandfather.