Over the next couple of days I helped Andy move into his new apartment. After cleaning out the refrigerator and letting the apartment air out, I convinced him to move the former occupants’ personal items to a bedroom.
“You really care about your neighbor’s stuff?” he asked while taking a picture off the walls.
I shrugged. “Kind of. Maybe. They might come back.” I hadn’t really known them or most of my neighbors to be honest. A week ago I had broken into every apartment and taken all the food and drinks I could find but I hadn’t touched their personal belongings.
“It doesn’t seem likely.”
“Yeah but you got to have hope or why the hell are we surviving?”