Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
9x8ft^2.
These were the dimensions of Tabitha’s cramped apartment on the edge of Rustboro City. Space was tight, but he made the best of it because this was all he was able to afford.
At least it was a slight upgrade from his dormitory room back at the University. At least he’d landed himself a coveted internship at the Devon Corporation, which led to a job waiting for him after graduation. Perhaps he would have liked his entry-level position to pay a bit more than an entry-level salary, but at the very least, he was able to buy necessities, even if it meant a diet of junky convenience store food.
Despite the fact that he had been living paycheck to paycheck for the past year, the bright, inquisitive, fiery passion of his 22-year-old mind had yet to be extinguished.
Tabitha fumbled for his keys in the pocket of his suit and unlocked his apartment door, only to be greeted by his roommate the instant he stepped inside the darkness of his room.
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
There, rubbing against his legs, was his beloved Pokémon. Surely she was upset that he had not come home sooner, but he had stayed late at the office again working with his research team. In recent weeks, this had become the norm, leaving Tabitha little time to straighten his place up. The stacks of boxes, clothes, and books piled high gave Skitty entertainment while her caretaker was away, but the mess disturbed Tabitha, a self-proclaimed neat freak.
“Ah, hello Skitty.”
But Skitty was insistent—when her owner did not kneel to scratch behind her ears, she followed him to his desk, pawing at his briefcase and leaping onto his chair to swat at the plastic bag in his hand.
“I know, I know. I am well-aware that I am particularly late today,” Tabitha scolded himself, lifting Skitty from her perch on his desk just as she began to stick her head into the bag’s contents. “I promise I’ll unwrap everything as soon as I get out of my work outfit.” Tabitha rummaged inside the desk for a matchbox and lit a droopy candle on the cluttered shelf for a light source. The wick was nearly gone—he’d have to remember to buy a replacement tomorrow and, as inconvenient as that was, it was still cheaper than paying for the lights. He needed electricity to charge his various gadgets, electricity for the space heater, electricity for hot water so, logically, he felt the overhead lamps could be cut from the bill with the least consequence.
