Not Today
Max was walking up to his apartment staring at the eviction notice taped to his door, he snatched it down. The bold red letters seemed to mock him: "FINAL NOTICE - 24 HOURS TO VACATE NO MORE EXCUSES." Two years of missed rent had finally caught up with him, but the thought of leaving the only place he'd called home for the past five years made him start thinking about coming up with the rent money.
"I'm not going nowhere," he mumbled to himself, tearing up the notice and throwing it in trash. But deep down, he knew Landlord Clarke meant business this time. The court filing for rent reimbursement made that crystal clear.
Max paced his studio apartment, thinking of a plan pulling the hair under his chin. His eyes landed on an old envelope on his cluttered desk.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the envelope and a pen. He writes "RENT MONEY" across the front. He reached into his wallet and pulls out a twenty-dollar bill He smoothed it out carefully, placing it on the table.
On a blank sheet of paper, he wrote:
"Dear Landlord Clarke,
This is all I have at the moment ($20). I promise to get the rest in a month, sir.
Your best tenet.
-Max"
He sealed the envelope, knowing this was a bold move and hope he doesn’t get offended – twenty dollar down payment for two years of unpaid rent. But it was all he had, and maybe, just maybe, it could buy him a little more time.
Sliding the envelope under Landlord Clarke's office door, Max held his breath, as if waiting for an immediate response. The hallway remained silent, with the anticipation and the knowledge that tomorrow would bring either soft-heartedness or the final push toward homelessness.
To be continued... Landlord Clarke's response pending.