During his days on the streets he was ravenous, not just for food but for books. Although the boxes have yet to be unpacked, he can often be found lingering there, breathing their papery perfumes.
It has become his favourite place of repose.
It's where he stashes the drugs. A lovely neighbour gave him some pure stuff.
He got stoned at the weekend....
Had to retire to the cool and shade of the hold, couldn't bear the light. Swore he'd never do catnip again.
Yipeeee!
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