the tiny home I’d made myself. An old mattress was pushed up against the wall, covered in quilts I’d found in one of the boxes Maryanne had stored in here. A milk crate lay next to it that I’d turned into a nightstand. A camping lantern sat on top of the nightstand that was just enough light to do homework. I’d created a dresser of sorts from empty boxes that housed my few outfits and other belongings. It wasn’t much, but I could breathe in here.
