100 or Less: Old

 

The couch was a lumpy, grey bowl of oatmeal Erasmus nearly sunk into a few times.

The old man had crammed the room full of dusty chairs, coffee tables, and desks. What he collected them all for Erasmus couldn’t say, maybe his way of holding on to the normality that everyone’d lost, as if a scratched piece of furniture could somehow water the wastelands with the morals of yesterday.

Or maybe age had made him a hoarder, one of those odd souls they used to show on TV who couldn’t help but collect every piece of shit known to man.

Old Furniture