You twist the knob and do the complicated lifting ritual needed to open the closet door. Small signs of previous tenants have been found here, as you doubt the landlord that lives states away paid the cleaning crew enough to meticulously detail a strange closet in one of the bedrooms. A yellowed receipt, a program for a funeral of an elderly woman in the community, small graphite marks on the edge of the door frame all point to lives lived in this house that feel distant from yours. You start the mindless task of putting clothes on hangers until you realize you need to find more hangers to complete this task. You return to the piles of boxes waiting to be unpacked.