Cross-legged Conner sat on his bed, back propped against the wall behind him cushioned with a few plush pillows for added support and comfort. He’d been working at folding his clothing, if slowly, from the pile of fresh laundry at his side on the mattress. A smaller pile lay on the floor some short distance from his bed serving as a discard pile for anything unneeded or unwanted due to wear and tear, or simply because it didn’t fit anymore. It was silly how many articles of clothing he’d come across, all of them had been somewhere lurking in the back of his closet or drawers, being overlooked for years; now could not have been a better time to go through all this grueling sorting.
In a way the simple action of folding shirts, pants, or anything else to be packed was a welcome distraction from his complex thoughts and unsure emotions trying to gnaw away at his mind. For the most part Conner had managed to get a hold on himself, making a fold her