I love estate sales.
Other people shop for barely-used appliances. Or jewelry. Or odd knick-knacks from their travels.
Clothes, well, that’s a bit too personal.
So is a bed. A bed frame is fine, but a bed? No.
It’s rare to find home movies.
The family usually keeps those or throws those out.
But every now and then, there’s a can of film in a projector or a tape left in a VCR.
I watch them all, and get an idea of what they were like when they were alive.
Before I killed them.
After all, I love estate sales.