It's really not that bad.

Chris said as his mother parked, the Blue Dodge Ram in front of the 12-story building.

His mother didn't say anything in response.

She was far too focused on trying to read the faded sign that loomed over the sidewalk.

Do I have to pay? she asked.

I mean, we only have a few suitcases to take up.

I don't think so, Chris sighed.

His mother had been quiet for most of the trip.

She hated driving long distances, and it wasn't like they had much to talk about anyway.

He told her from the beginning that he didn't mind taking the train,

but then she got really emotional, and she insisted that her baby boy was not going to move into his first apartment all by himself.

It wasn't until they hit the city that she started really complaining about everything.

It was the traffic. It was the fact that no one else could drive.

It was the one-way streets and the this and the that.

He really wasn't looking forward to telling her that the building technically had an elevator.

But it was not operational and hadn't been since the 90s.

They pulled his suitcases out of the trunk of the car and dumped them onto the sidewalk.

Chris pulled out his backpack and swung it over his shoulder.

It thumped against his spine right where his shoulders ached the most from the long car ride.

Eleven hours, give or take.

Seeing everything he owned in three bags really put his life into perspective.

All the furniture he had belonged to his parents.

...