I apologize for the seeds all over the place. Perhaps next time the house will see it fit to enclose them in the envelope.
I have knocked together a planter pot and planted some of the purple flowers. I hope they come out pretty.
I think I had a working bathroom when I started. Now I don’t. The remaining cabinets seem dingier too. Is it just me?
I made a shelf to put the figure on. It turned out fine.
Sometimes I sleep on park benches.
I make statues. Like one of a man with an umbrella. Or maybe a woman. I can’t tell. I made a table to put it on. The statue is better than the table.
There are these posters on the walls, drawings. I’m going to sell them. They might be worth something.
I eat food out of garbage cans. It tastes okay. I try and find things that could be worth a few cents somehow.
I’m pretty much just a transient, Anya. I was anywhere, and now I’m here because I found a roof no-one was using.
I’m scared. I get these attacks of sadness, like a wave crashing over me. Carving the statues helps. I’m going to sell them too, see if that can make any money. Anya, how can I fix the house when I barely make enough to keep the lights on?
I think I have to start with the kitchen. It seems like the right place. The heart of the house.
Anya, I think I’m running out of time.