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Home sweet home…

He had put in the work, emptying out the place, scrubbing it down and then doing the repairs.

He had taken shop class at juvie, then again in prison. There was always extra security in the shop, too many potential weapons, but there were advantages to having extra security around.

He did the work himself, replacing the sink and toilet in the small bathroom, repairing the tiles in the shower. He rewired the lights, built a bed frame and bought a cheap mattress. A coat of paint, a table and a couple of chairs found in the trash and the place was pretty much done.

Welcome home Elijah.

It was on top of a strip club, so no sleep was possible until after the place closed at two am, but in the other hand, the commute was down a flight of stairs, so he could live with that.

Leaning against one wall was a chunk of chain link fence, covered in pad locks. It had been part of one those romantic things, lock in your love or something until the city just wanted the locks gone and had removed the fence.

Now it was just practice, as he tried to work his way through them.

Just another thing learned in prison.