Not a condom. Worse. The afters bar tab with two names on it and a time stamp that proves I said I was “already in bed.” She’s weaponising it at brunch.
Tag: flatshare
Mia Wore My Good Heels
She swears she asked. She didn’t. They came home with a scuff and a number in the sole. I’m keeping the number.
The Neighbours Heard Everything Again
Thin walls. Thick voice. I’d apologise if I was sorry. I’m not. They play drum and bass at noon on Sundays, so I consider us even, actually.
Flat Chat Named The Regular
They’ve given him a nickname. I won’t repeat it. It’s accurate. He still thinks he’s mysterious.
The Landlord Texted About Noise
At 4:12. I replied at 4:13 with a heart emoji. He has not followed up. Coward.
He Finished In The Uber
Look, the meter was still running and I wasn’t getting out in Peckham at 3am with unfinished business. He tipped the driver. I kept the story.