Chapter # - # weeks after the key is found

The little plastic alarm buzzed on my dresser, I stood up and turned it off, rubbed one foot on top of the other and gathered my things. 

I picked my pants, fumbled around on the table for my glasses, picked up the shirt from yesterday and left the room.

The shag carpet downstairs was dirty and disgusting to walk on in bare feet but I padded to the bathroom and scrubbed my back and shoulders with a loofah under the hot shower.

I turned off the water and dried with a towel vaguely crusted. I dressed, smelling my armpits, applied deoderant under my shirt, and went looking for my key.

From its manila envelope, It slid into my hand with a tiny screeching sound. I took a ballchain necklace from around a liqour bottle on top of the fridge, removed the spent miniature glowstick, and hooked on the key. I hung it around my neck. I left my bike key in my back pocket, though I knew I wouldn't need it again.

The light over the stairs didn't work, but I hit the switch anyway in memory of the time a year ago when it had. Human grease had left a brown line along the drywall all the way down.

At the second floor I walked down the hall, the vynil making sticking sounds. 

I let the ball chain run through my fingers as I approached the door.

The sobbing was still going, and I drew my key as I approached 214.

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