Page 125 - My Home on the Earth

was not a part of the old buildings. Maybe an office or storeroom, he thought. One wooden table had survived albeit with three legs. A metal filing cabinet, minus its drawers, lay on the floor. Thinking it would make a perfect shelf unit he stood it up, brushed off the dust and dragged it outside.
Returning inside, the rest of the building provided little bounty for his needs but he did come across one door bolt and hasp in a smashed toilet block. Brilliant, he thought. Skilfully, he removed the screws with his screwdriver and put them in his pocket. He dropped the items in his rucksack and wandered around the building, collecting or discarding things of no value.
Taking the shelf unit back would create a racket which might attract attention. He needed something to muffle the sound and went in search of fabric. Then he remembered seeing lagged pipework as he entered the building. As quick as a flash he ran back and yanked the lagging off a stretch of pipework.
Binding the back feet of the unit with the lagging would muffle any noise. With a full rucksack on his back, he grabbed the unit and walking backwards, manoeuvred it through the rubble and into the shed. He pulled the lagging off, pushed it in a corner and stood back to admire his efforts. Removing his paltry belongings, and remaining food from boxes, he loaded the shelves. He flattened the discarded cardboard and lay it on the floor for added insulation. ‘With more boxes, I could insulate the walls as well.’
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