Moving Out

When the little mole wanted to move he told his landlady it was not because anything she had done, it was simply time to move on to new soil. But did she believe him? He didn't know. He had longed to feel new dirt on his feet for a good while now but he hadn't expressed it to his landlady when she sometimes brought over leftover dinner for him if he'd had a long day at work. He'd always kept major things to himself and then dropped them like a bomb when they got too heavy for him. One landlady even urged him to go to a 'shrink' as she called it, but he'd just put down a big deposit on the place he was moving to back then and didn't have the cash to go get his mind checked out as she had suggested. Maybe that was rude of her, actually, he thought as he pulled out his suitcase from the corner. He knew he wasn't fair attacking people with brand new information like that, but he had a hard time changing that. He was incredibly controlled by his emotions, he had learned from an online personality test he'd done a night he was bored. Who was he kidding? He hadn't been bored, he'd done several of those tests and afternoon he was supposed to prepare some documents for work the next day. The result made sense to him. If something didn't feel right, he couldn't do it. "If it doesn't feel right, it's not right." his grandmother always used to say. He missed her often. He took her picture down from the wall and carefully wrapped it in bubble wrap. Then he heard a knock on the door.