Aaron pushed the reluctant door to his new home open to reveal a wall emblazoned with startling graffiti: "Fuck the counsel", presumably written by some embittered and illiterate previous tenan1t.
"Fuck the counsel!" screamed the graffiti emblazoned wall, the enraged residue of the previous evicted tenants of his new home, a "room with a view" according to his sardonic soup kitchen mate - very funny.
The door opened fairly easily, revealing a debris-filled room - the discarded remnant of previous tenants' lives - surrounded by walls emblazoned with foul graffiti and dimly lit by a dust encrusted window that opened on to the alley below.
Aaron surveyed his new home with a wry smile; this littered, graffiti besmirched hovel was the "room with a view" his soup kitchen mate had mentioned?
