Premise

Here’s the premise for a story:  suppose a man were to clean out his garage, hauling out box after box, old tricycles, fishing gear, flower pots — in abundance — and tarps, painting supplies, more tricycles.  Wait.  Didn’t he already haul a bunch of trikes to the Salvation Army store?  Turns out the garage is vomiting up trikes from the depths of the earth and the man is trapped in an eternal cycle like Sisyphus.