Real Estate Boy

by John Schoneboom

Jenkins shared a room and a bunk bed with little Grotty Edna. It was all very horrifying and he wanted his own room more than he wanted even to be loved.

He spent countless hours poring over real estate websites, paying special attention to how long the property had been on the market and the quality of the back garden. Before long, he had become a true master of the art of title chains and proceedability.

Jenkins decided that the situation was intolerable, so he decided to hide. Next thing you know, he was gone as gone could be.

Jenkins spent the next four months living mostly in sewer tunnels and behind long curtains, wondering why his father hadn't noticed that he was gone. What he imagined was that his father would be seized by alarm and hasten to procure the extra bedroom that Jenkins craved so badly. Unfortunately, his father was so involved in small-time gambling and hustling operations that he simply presumed the boy was nearby somewhere.

When at last Jenkins had had enough, he parachuted into the middle of one of his father's burglary operations and spoke aloud these words:

"If I don't get my own room in the very near term I shall likely be emotionally crippled for a good long time."

"I can't do that, it costs too much money," said his father, and they went on to live productive, happy lives.
Jenkins shared a room and a bunk bed with little Grotty Edna. It was all very horrifying and he wanted his own room more than he wanted even to be loved.

He spent countless hours poring over real estate websites, paying special attention to how long the property had been on the market and the quality of the back garden. Before long, he had become a true master of the art of title chains and proceedability.

Jenkins decided that the situation was intolerable, so he decided to hide. Next thing you know, he was gone as gone could be.

Jenkins spent the next four months living mostly in sewer tunnels and behind long curtains, wondering why his father hadn't noticed that he was gone. What he imagined was that his father would be seized by alarm and hasten to procure the extra bedroom that Jenkins craved so badly. Unfortunately, his father was so involved in small-time gambling and hustling operations that he simply presumed the boy was nearby somewhere.

When at last Jenkins had had enough, he parachuted into the middle of one of his father's burglary operations and spoke aloud these words:

"If I don't get my own room in the very near term I shall likely be emotionally crippled for a good long time."

"I can't do that, it costs too much money," said his father, and they went on to live productive, happy lives.
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