– One Man’s Trash
| September 25, 2023 - 12:30 PM
Lin stood beside William Zhao, watching as he surveyed the abandoned hardware store with a deep, suffering sigh.
Like the building had personally insulted his ancestors.
The sign above the entrance was faded and chipped—Harper's Tools & Supply. Inside, dust coated the shelves like a crime scene. The air smelled of old wood and regret.
Zhao exhaled, shaking his head. "What a dump."
Lin raised an eyebrow. "You bought it sight unseen?"
"I don't waste time on details," Zhao said, dismissive as ever. "It was cheap, the land is valuable, and it's in a prime location."
Lin glanced around. Prime location for what?
Then she spotted it—a boutique bakery and a high-end coffee shop down the street.
Oh.
Zhao smirked. "We're turning this place into a luxury café. Expensive, exclusive—the kind that makes people feel sophisticated about spending ten bucks on bean water."
Lin blinked. "And you think people are gonna come all the way out here for overpriced caffeine?"
Zhao shrugged. "People are stupid."
Hard to argue with that.
He waved a hand at the shelves. "Anyway, get rid of this junk. I want the place gutted by next week."
Lin tapped her chin, thinking fast.
The shelves were heavy-duty steel. The tools were still good. There were buckets of nails, rolls of wiring, even an old generator sitting in the back.
Zhao saw trash.
Lin saw gold.
She put on her best innocent expression. "Can I take it?"
Zhao frowned. "Take what?"
Lin gestured vaguely around. "All of it. Instead of paying someone to haul it away, I'll do it. Saves you cleanup costs."
Zhao squinted. "You actually want this junk?"
Lin shrugged. "I have…projects."
Zhao gave her a long look, then sighed. "Fine. Do whatever you want. Just get it out of here."
| September 25, 2023 - 12:45 PM
Lin walked out, already dialing her phone.
An entire hardware store's worth of supplies—for free.
Now she just needed a way to haul it.
| September 25, 2023 - 4:30 PM
"Okay, explain this again."
Lilly stared at Lin across the lunch table, gripping her iced tea like it was the only thing keeping her sane.
Lin took a slow sip of her coffee. "I bought a truck."
Lilly blinked. "Like…a pickup truck?"
"No." Lin smirked. "A truck truck. Diesel. Big. Loud. Can haul a ton of weight."
Lilly nearly choked. "WHAT? Since WHEN do you drive trucks? What are you even hauling? Stolen safes? Farm animals? A small house?"
Lin stirred her coffee. "Supplies."
Lilly narrowed her eyes. "Supplies for WHAT, exactly?"
Lin grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Lilly groaned. "You are going through something. I just don't know what it is."
| September 25, 2023 - 5:02 PM
For the first time in years, Lin clocked out on time.
No guilt. No emails. No staying late to pretend she cared about corporate deadlines.
She had more important things to do.
| September 25, 2023 - 5:15 PM
Her diesel truck rumbled as she pulled up to the abandoned hardware store.
The sun was dipping low, the sky burning orange.
The building stood exactly as she left it. Forgotten. Dismissed. Full of everything she needed.
Lin stepped out, cracking her knuckles.
Time to load up.
| September 25, 2023 - 5:20 PM
She moved fast, hauling out the best supplies first:
Metal shelves – solid, could be repurposed for storage or fortifications.
Hand tools – hammers, wrenches, saws, screwdrivers. All the essentials.
Buckets of nails, bolts, screws – small, but priceless in a pinch.
Coils of chain and rope – strong enough to secure… things.
Wood planks – reinforcement for whatever needed reinforcing.
A backup generator – old, but workable.
By 5:40 PM, the truck bed was packed, and she still had a bit more to take later.
That was fine.
She had time—for now.
| September 25, 2023 - 5:50 PM
With the last box secured, Lin climbed into the driver's seat, gripping the wheel.
She pulled onto the open road, leaving the city behind.
The buildings disappeared. The traffic thinned. The only thing ahead was miles of open highway.
Lin exhaled, a slow, satisfied breath.
For the first time, it felt real.
She wasn't just talking about change.
She was making it happen.
| September 25, 2023 - 6:40 PM
The road stretched endlessly before her, the city a distant memory in her rearview mirror.
By the time she turned onto the gravel driveway of Sunrise Valley, the sky had deepened into shades of violet and navy. The land stretched out before her, quiet and untouched, waiting.
For the first time all day, she let herself breathe.
She rolled past the main hotel—a skeleton of what it used to be. Windows dark, shutters creaking in the evening breeze. Further back, she spotted the old storage shed, tucked away past the tree line.
It was dusty. Forgotten. Half-rotted in places.
But it had walls. A roof. Space.
For now?
It would do.
| September 25, 2023 - 6:25 PM
Lin cut the engine, the sudden silence settling heavy around her. She climbed out, stretching her arms, rolling the stiffness from her neck.
The air here was different. Cool, crisp—none of the smog and metal tang of the city.
Just earth and pine and river mist.
She moved to the truck bed, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back.
The supplies stared back at her—boxes of nails, rolls of chain, stacks of wood, heavy-duty tools. She cracked her knuckles, exhaling.
Time to unload.
One by one, she hauled the crates inside, her boots kicking up dust as she worked.
Metal shelves, sturdy and reliable. Buckets of nails, bolts, and screws, the kind that would be priceless one day. Wood planks, rope, and tarps—materials for patchwork repairs. A generator, old but fixable, waiting for a second chance.
She wiped the sweat from her brow, stepping back to survey her work.
The shed was bare-bones. The walls creaked, spiderwebs clung stubbornly to the corners.
But it was hers now.
And more importantly—no one else knew about it.
| September 25, 2023 - 7:00 PM
Lin leaned against the truck, inhaling deeply.
No sirens. No honking. No voices.
Just the rustling of trees, the rhythmic chirp of crickets, the distant gurgle of the river cutting through the valley.
For the first time in a long time, she felt the tension in her chest ease.
She wasn't just stockpiling supplies.
She was building a future.
And soon?
This place wouldn't just be a hideaway.
It would be a fortress.