The warehouse was empty. The unkept floors were coated in a thin layer of dust with some dirt sprinkled around on top. There were clouds of dust in the air that danced around, occupying the huge, barren space. The three large windows on each of the walls let beams of sunlight in that made the dust much more visible. They sort of looked like little snowflakes that were only visible in the presence of intense light. All of this dust made it hard to breathe without having random outbursts of coughing fits.

There were only a few crates of items throughout the entire warehouse. A couple of them contained very spoiled food that produced a nose-stinging stench. Others had things such as toys and random housekeeping products. With all those products you would think that the dust issue wouldn’t be so bad, but no one ever bothered to. The kinds of people that stay here are least concerned about cleanliness, it just matters that they have a roof above their heads at all. Other than crates, there were old, ripped sleeping bags and broken lanterns scattered across the floor. Again, they were never worth picking up. 

The roof was made out of metal, so storms were very loud and hard to deal with. On one particular day it was raining very hard. The sound of the rain hitting the roof echoed throughout the warehouse, and it was impossible to sleep that night. Laying awake at night on the dirty floor of an abandoned warehouse all alone was not the best situation to be in, but it was better than nothing. 

That night,  around two in the morning, the sound of the industrial metal door could be heard opening. A man walked in. He was soaking wet, wearing just a t-shirt and ripped up jeans. He had a small bag with him, but it didn’t seem like there was much in it. The sound of his voice echoed as he let out a deep sigh.

He set his bag down in a nearby corner, probably not realizing there was already somewhere there. He pulled out a blanket and laid it out on the ground, coughing as lots of dust flew up into the air and into his lungs. He spoke quietly to himself, “This place is way too dirty for someone to live here.”

Suddenly morning came, and that corner was once again vacant. Was there even someone else at all?

The answer to that soon came when the sound of the door opening echoed once again. This time around he had a bigger backpack and dry clothes. He went over to the same corner as the night before and used the blanket to brush away all of the dust and dirt in his area. Once he was done, he moved away, revealing what the floor was actually supposed to look like. It was surprisingly  dark gray as it was always near white with specks of brown.

He held the blanket up to his face and sharply winced at how much dust was on it. He looked exasperated and hung his head. He tossed the blanket into the corner and reached into his bag. He pulled out a much bigger, softer looking blanket. He laid it out and only little bits of dust came up that time. 

Reaching into his bag once more, he pulled out a smaller blanket and a very flattened pillow. He placed the pillow at a low angle against the wall at the top of the blanket. He folded the smaller blanket into a perfect square and set it down next to his makeshift bed. He sat down and leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. He stayed there for a moment before pulling out a book and a bag of chips. The bag crinkled as he pulled on it, trying to open it. This sound bounced off the empty walls and filled the whole area with that excruciating sound. 

He sat there and read this book for about an hour until he pulled more stuff out of his backpack. In there he had two small, handheld dusters and two containers of disinfecting wipes. Was he really going to try to clean this area on his own with just those tiny things? Also, how did he not realize he wasn’t alone?

Those questions were also answered a couple of seconds later when he turned to me and said, “Come on, let’s make this place a home.”