"Hey, Sally, now that the old man's dead, what do you want to do with his stuff?"
"How can you talk like that about dad?"
"What? He's dead. It doesn't matter much."
"It matters to me, dammit. It's still real."
"Two months have passed."
"Yeah. Just two months. I need more time to feel like he's gone."
"I see. But anyway, what do you want to do with his things?"
"Do we really have to do something right now?"
"No. We should sort them out, at least. I'm sure he has nice things around here, and maybe we can give some to charity."
"I'm not ready for that, either. You can do it alone."
"Fine... I hope that when I die, people will just throw my shit away."