Aaron, 26. Gatwick Private Hotel, St. Kilda.
I meet Aaron on a Wednesday afternoon. He is in bed. He asks if I can hear the birds speaking his name, I tell him I can’t. The light fitting has no globe, its been stolen. His bedroom door has been kicked in, its lock broken, frame splintered.
Later that day, another resident assaults Aaron in the Hotel’s lobby.
The Gatwick is a residence of last resort. Unfortunately, so many of its residents don’t get the help and support they so desperately require.
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