Home...The Other One IX

We went by my father's place the next morning and I gathered him some things to make him feel comfortable, things that were familiar to him. His place tastes like cigarette smoke and it's throughout the building. I looked through the papers on his kitchen table, it's all little pictures of the life he used to have, I wonder how often he looks at these.

Everything looked grey, covered in smoke and dust. I hung my jacket on the door and grabbed some garbage bags and proceeded to throw out all of his linen, pillows as well as his blankets on the couch he pretty much lives on. Maybe if I can clean his space up a bit he will be more comfortable, I don't even know if that's an option anymore. Joseph stood in the kitchen watching me run back and forth filling bag after bag of his bedding and towels, tying them up and tossing them into the hallway.

When every surface was wiped and the apartment was stripped Joseph helped me carry everything to the dumpster out back. "Can you take me shopping?" I was exhausted and emotionally drained.

"Sure, I can go fishing tomorrow." He placed his arm around my shoulder and walked me back to the truck.