Slowly he placed the very last shirt into his suitcase with a heavy sigh. Snapping the case shut quietly and standing to face his aunt.
"Come on Gabriel. We've got to go or we're going to miss our plane."
"Where's mum?"
"She's gone out. Come on now. No more delaying."

---

Three young kids sitting in small livingroom watching television. The door opens and in floats curses and a dark haired man.
"Come on kids pack your shit. We've gotta be out of here."
One of the kids whines. "Oh come on! We just moved here? Where are we going?"
"Get in your fucking rooms and start packing, don't ask me stupid questions." All three of them silently pull themselves away from the television and into their respective rooms after stopping at the hall closet to grab a handful of boxes.

---

Gabriel places a box on the single bed giving a look around the empty room. His ribs are jabbed bringing him back to reality as Kenny's face looks back at him.
"New York City huh!? College! It's going to be fucking awesome. Fuck Florida man. Piece of shit state."

---

There's a knock on the window that startles Gabriel. He shifts in the front seat disorientated for a moment as traffic whizzes by him. The parking officer gives him a look as he peals the blanket off of himself and starts his car to move it.
No parking between 7am-9am.
He knew he should have slept somewhere other than Bushwick Ave.

---

He knocks on the door. Spinning the newspaper cutout in his hands round and round nervously as he waits. The door opens.
"Hey! You're here for the room right? Come on this way." He takes a step inside and offers a smile.
"This is a lot like the last flat I live in."
"Oh man you moved here from Britain?"
"Well uh, sort of. But more recently from Coney Island."

---

"Well that's the last signature I need. I believe these are yours." She slides a set of keys across the table and Gabriel slowly picks them up thumbing them over as if just to make sure they're real. "Congratulations homeowner."
Gabriel smiles. "Thank you so much!"

---

There's another notice on the door. It stares back at him as he fishes for his keys. Everything hurts and the keys seem to have buried themselves deep inside the leather of his satchel. There's a quiet noise of frustration and Gabriel tears the piece of paper in front of him angrily down leaving little white strips.
The tape is thicker now.

---

He lays in his bed and all he can smell is the trademark scent of damp mattress. There's no light in his basement cave. But he doesn't need a light to tell him it's flooded again. He can smell it, he can feel it. He can hear the rain falling outside. Pitter patter on the concrete just above him.
He should get up and get the mail.
But he already knows what's in it.

---

The mover is taking away the last box. Gabriel is pealing Marks keys off his ring and placing them down on a note on a piece of furniture that never really belonged to him. He takes a walk through the apartment one last time to make sure he didn't miss anything before making a note of what needs to be cleaned and repainted.
Though he did most of the cleaning himself.
Broom clean.

---

Gabriel flicks on the light to the hotel room. The one flickering side-table lamp flickers as it always seems to. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it. What a day, what a day.
He slides down the door into a ball on the floor and he cries. He cries deep. Lister sneaks underneath his arms and laps at the tears that never seem to stop.
He cries until he's exhausted and all he can do is lay down on the ugly shag carpet and shut his eyes.