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Kitchen, 33 Apocalypse, Sunday Afternoon
Dec. 7th, 2008 03:13 pmMoving cross-island via rickshaw, Tyler quickly learned, fucking sucked. His futon barely fit in the back of one and as for the number of trips he had to make ... well. Let's just say he was glad he had a philosophical objection to material possession.
Though, for a guy with a philosophical objection to material possessions, he sure had a bunch of stuff. He filled what he hoped was a last box with kitchen items (pots, pasta, the good coffee) and sat at the table to write a quick note before officially moving out.
( If you're nosy... )
Tyler sighed as he added his keys to the stack of papers on the table. He'd make one last check of the bathroom, and then he'd be gone.
[OOC: Open to housemates or anyone who'd have reason to visit him.]
Though, for a guy with a philosophical objection to material possessions, he sure had a bunch of stuff. He filled what he hoped was a last box with kitchen items (pots, pasta, the good coffee) and sat at the table to write a quick note before officially moving out.
( If you're nosy... )
Tyler sighed as he added his keys to the stack of papers on the table. He'd make one last check of the bathroom, and then he'd be gone.
[OOC: Open to housemates or anyone who'd have reason to visit him.]
