deep cleaning - by April Qiu Cheng - winter in april

i clean my room the week before i’m leaving the states. by clean i mean really clean: i meticulously comb through every drawer, every shelf, every box, every book, sorting what to toss, what to donate, what to move, what to reshelve. i fill up box after box, of stuffed animals and unused school supplies and clothes that no longer fit my style. i unearth mementos buried 10 layers deep in my bedside drawer: exam materials from an international high school olympiad, receipts from first dates, silly band in a cookie jar, the loads of things that i had hoarded as an elementary schooler, the gremlin that i was—old gift cards, paper bags that i’d liked, random marbles, bracelets, pieces of babybel cheese wax, rocks (so many rocks), a porcupine-shaped 馒头 (steamed bun) from a chinese exchange summer camp, miraculously mold-free. i recycle that huge stack of scratch paper that has accumulated on my desk for a decade. COVID-era physics notebooks, AP biology worksheets, middle school history hando

i clean my room the week before i’m leaving the states. by clean i mean really clean: i meticulously comb through every drawer, every shelf, every box, every book, sorting what to toss, what to donate, what to move, what to reshelve. i fill up box after box, of stuffed animals and unused school supplies and clothes that no longer fit my style. i unearth mementos buried 10 layers deep in my bedside drawer: exam materials from an international high school olympiad, receipts from first dates, silly band in a cookie jar, the loads of things that i had hoarded as an elementary schooler, the gremlin