The Hoarding Gene

After my mom died we realized the extent of her hoarding. Rooms stacked with boxes in boxes, years worth of newspapers, closets that spilled out like avalanches when opened. Most items made no sense.

My wife suggested a dumpster. It felt a shame to throw it all away, a lifetime of memories tossed. In one room we uncovered a forgotten memento from my childhood that I wanted to keep.  My wife called the glass eyes creepy.

No way, she said, we have zero room at home, but I knew there was always space for one more thing. 

The hoarder’s mantra.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Adam Ickes

Posted for the Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt – a complete story in 100 words or less.

This is perfect for me because my attention span is a about 100 words.


  1. Dear J.D.

    It looks like a welcome to Friday Fictioneers is in order. Beware! You may soon find yourself hoarding one-hundred word stories. But then, there is always room for one more. Good story.



    1. Thank you. I have found the stories my first week to be wonderful, and 100 words is the perfect amount for me. Thanks for hosting this weekly event. I look forward to many more. Luckily for me 100 word stories don’t take up a lot of space.

  2. J.D., Good story and well written. I know hoarders since my husband is one. To make it worse, people give him junk. He was in the hospital a couple of times and his hoard was cleaned out. I doubt he even missed the things as I don’t think he remembers everything. He just started in again. Well done and it’s humorous in a kind of dark way. You have to have a sense of humor. Well done. 🙂 —Susan

  3. Great job describing the house of a hoarder–liked the description of things falling out of closets like avalanches.

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