Let the above serve to remind us of the craftsmanship of Alfred Sparrow and his countless unnamed friends. No longer will you make a home for those you loved nor those to whom you simply grew accustomed. Instead, you will lay in repose at the bottom of the city’s collection site, your new neighbors being used Kleenex, forgotten photographs, an outdated telephone directory or two, a broken lamp, a stolen bicycle, a sock lost in a dryer, a waffle iron, a set of unused golf clubs, a three-legged dining table, a half-hearted collection of Desert Storm trading cards, an empty canister of cheese balls, more than a few impulse buys, and something her ex-boyfriend gave her. For whatever perverse solace this may bring you, know that you deserved better.