Catch-07

Waking from a brief tedium induced nap, Hunter opened his eyes sprawled out on his sunbaked couch. He looked around his apartment in a somewhat fabricated feeling of bliss. Aside from the somewhat constant aroma of human urine and disappointment that lingered in the hallway, Hunter liked his apartment. The stacks of aging novels atop his almost impossibly decrepit coffee table, matched his weary brown leather couch. Hunter closed his eyes and thought of the first time he’d ever really felt at home in Maple Wood Crest. Almost three weeks after he’d moved into his apartment it still mainly consisted of a box springless mattress on the floor, a lamp, and a motley collection of books and cotton shirts strewn about the single studio. Although to his credit he had managed to paint the single room of his studio apartment a faint blue. He had yet to meet any of his neighbors, and was justifiably somewhat hesitant, considering that more than not he would hear someone yelling angrily or drunkenly, (although they are not mutually exclusive) from somewhere in the building. In his fourth week, Hunter finally decided, or rather was forced to introduce himself to  his neighbors. That would be due to the fact that the window leading into the adjacent ally was busted, and had a tendency of letting in fucking freezing gusts of wind as soon as Hunter stepped out of the shower. And try as he might to fit a beer cap into the screw to close the god damned thing, he needed a screw driver. One of which he did not have. So he conceded, and walked the draining four feet to get to apartment number 8 across the hall. Upon knocking on the door, it creaked and swung open. The apartment was significantly bigger than Hunter’s, and much more furnished. There was even an established living room, complete with a leather couch, coffee table, old green leather reading chair, and lamp. On top of the table there was a hand scrawled note, and seeing as he was trespassing anyways, Hunter figured he would go ahead and violate some minor privacy while he was at it. The note was somewhat informally addressed to the landlord, stating that the former occupants of apartment 8 had skipped town and that their furniture could be disposed of or put up as last months rent. And so, Hunter did as any good citizen would do, and stole the lions share of an apartment. After approximately three hours of shimmying various stolen goods into his apartment, that he sat down on his new couch and felt utterly at home.