Where the space went
The call is almost always about one door you have stopped opening. The attic where the stairs are blocked, the basement where the boxes now reach the joists, the shed that holds more than it should, the garage where the car has sat outside for years. Houses around Killingworth have plenty of attic and basement, and those rooms fill slowly, a box at a time, until nobody can reach the back wall.
None of it feels urgent, which is why it sits. Then something forces the issue: a sale, a repair crew that needs to get to the furnace, a spare room that suddenly has to be a bedroom, a relative's belongings arriving with nowhere to go.




