Of him. Of the texts. Of my “I’m coming home I swear” lie from 2am. Democracy is dead in this flat and I’m the president.
Tag: chaos
Not me. The girl whose boyfriend was inside with his hand on my waist. I gave her a cigarette. I’m not a monster.
It now includes “remove strange men before 9am” and “buy more loo roll after weekends”. I initialled it in lip gloss.
Look, I said he could get an Uber. He made coffee instead, used my good mug, and Sophie clocked the whole thing in her dressing gown. I still haven’t decided if that’s charming or a hostage situation.
Until it didn’t. Door open, neighbour in a dressing gown, someone crying in the good chair. I took notes on my phone.