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Max Castle ☾ Máni (manen) wrote in paxletalelogs,

Max was nearly dragged into the space, despite being a few inches taller than Fee. The young woman certainly had no end of energy, but after a moment Max found his balance again and was matching her stride. The hand-holding went semi-unnoticed for the moment, his eyes and mind far too entranced by the wonders the...closet?...held.

Or rather, would be wonders and treasures, though a young man with Max's overactive imagination was able to make something fantastical out of almost anything.

The boxing gloves were interesting, but he spied a lot more than just those - a spatula tagged with 603, what sort of looked like a cop's license from 718, and some fake movie blood from 203. All in all, none of the objects had anything in common except for the numbered tags they were attached to.

There as a pair of well-worn heels, tiger print; a business tie with a label marked P1; and a beat up laptop with the number 211 held on with an old piece of tape. The numbers all were written by hand, and a thought hit Max in the back of the head like a horse had kicked him.

"You don't think...these things belonged to previous tenants, do you? I mean, all these numbers correspond with the apartment numbers. But why would they keep a closet full of stuff people might have left behind?"