Murphy’s apartment is the same layout as the other apartments in the property, with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a small kitchen area.
Upon entering the apartment you come straight into the living room which has the kitchenette attached off to the right. A kitchen bar separates the two areas which has a couple of stools which makes up the dining area. The kitchen isn’t often used, but there’s a lot of kitchen utensils in the drawers as Murphy simply brought most of what had gathered in his dad’s home without really considering what he would use.
The living room contains a well-worn sofa with a throw laid over it to give it a slightly better appearance. There’s a TV which is relatively small compared to today’s standards and a coffee table in front of the couch which is usually covered in plates, bowls, mugs, books and papers, often with Murphy’s laptop balanced on top. There’s another armchair which can recline, but that’s used more often for Murphy to chuck his coat on than actually sit on.
The bathroom is also to the right of the living room, beyond the kitchen and had the basics with a toilet, sink, shower cubicle and no bath. It's clean, with a toothbrush and toothpaste in a cup on the sink which shows that only one person lives here.
To the left of the living-room are two doors which lead to the bedrooms. Murphy has turned the spare room, closest to the front door into a study, with his computer on a desk with a comfortable swivel chair tucked tidily under it. There are a few empty mugs scattered about the desk and post it notes stuck around the edge of the screen – but there are more notes and scraps of paper filling a waste paper bin beside the desk.
There is also a two seater sofa in the room which can fold out into a bed, although Murphy hasn’t tried folding it out for many years. There is a deep bookcase crammed with a double layer of books and other knick knacks filling up any spare space, such as photos of his friends, one of his parents on their wedding day, a jar of shiny quarters, a rock he found when he was a child and a darts trophy his father won when he’d been about Murphy’s age as well as countless other bits and bobs.
His own bedroom has another full bookcase and a mismatching wardrobe, desk, chest of drawers. Apart from the books there are less personal items in here, no photos or mementos of his past or family. The bed is usually scruffily made – as though Murphy began to make it but got bored half way through. The sheets are comfortable, but not by any means expensive quality.
The garage outside is packed with items from his previous home which Murphy hasn't been able to bring himself to sort through yet. It's mostly packed up in boxes with notes scrawled on them about what's inside. There's not enough room for his car so he parks it in the area in front of the garage.
The whole apartment has the feeling of disorganisation which would surprise anyone who knew Murphy well. It's messy and obvious the owner hasn't been paying much attention to keeping it tidy - but it's not dirty. The plates eventually get moved and the cups get washed up after a while. Anything spilt gets wiped up immediately and if there's leftover food it's scrapes into the recycling so there's no bad smell lingering around the apartment, just a vague feeling of chaos.
