...the last twelve in an old one bedroom in close-in Southeast. He swung open his heavy apartment door and stepped onto the squeaky wooden boards. Glad to be home, Reg swung a plastic drugstore bag at his side. The place was plain and had no real signs of modernity. All the furnishings were at least second hand. The couch and coffee table where as out of fashion today as they were fifteen years ago.
Reg walked into the bathroom and pulled out four boxes of condoms. He opened up a deep cabinet and placed them on the second shelf with the other dozen or so boxes.