His name is Matthew, just like the first book of the Bible. That is how he introduces himself. I guess he doesn’t count the Old Testament. He asks what breed our dog is then gives her a vigorous scratch behind her ears. She approves.

Matthew looks to be in his mid 30s but it’s hard to know for sure. He ambles around the grounds hunched over a walker. I surmise that Matthew has been through some shit, exactly what I do not know.

His name is Matthew, just like the first book of the Bible. That is how he introduces himself, again. He asks again about the breed of our dog. Again she enjoys a vigorous scratch behind the ears. Again she approves.

Matthew from the Bible sleeps in a chair in front of his apartment with a half eaten fast-food burger dangling from one hand.

Matthew from the Bible glares at me when I walk past. I’m not sure why.

Matthew from the Bible asks me what breed my dog is then says he’s thinking of getting a dog of his own. Ear scratches deployed. Approval bestowed.

Matthew from the Bible wanders around the grounds. He doesn’t use his walker. He wales on the stair railings with a metal baseball bat. I don’t ask him why.

Matthew from the Bible sleeps in his chair again. No burger this time.

Matthew from the Bible hangs out with a neighbor who has tattoos all over his face.

Matthew from the Bible is not around for several months. I don’t know where he went. The blinds are closed. His chair waits for him in front of his apartment.

Matthew from the Bible appears one last time. His health looks improved. I still don’t know where he’s been. I don’t ask.

The chair in front of Matthew’s apartment is gone. The blinds are open. The apartment is empty.

Matthew from the Bible has moved on, to where I do not know.

People