It was a terrible decision to rent that place. The photographs mislead me. Dirty advertising tricks.
Do not misunderstand. The place is bright and clean. No stains. No insects. I checked many times. Always searching. There had to be something. Anything. Perhaps, a blanket of dust on the kitchen counter? No. Swept clean, all of it.
I do not trust the stainless cream curtains, soft to touch, ballooning when I open the window for a breeze. There is a stain somewhere, I need only find it.
I do not trust the carpets. Ants scuttle under there, quiet and too small to see.
You might say, it’s not my choice to live in such a terrible place. Move away. Go find somewhere else. I will when I can, but what do I tell them?
Ants. I need only one and I can be gone.
Perhaps I’m thinking too extreme. A bad smell will do. But no. The place smells clean, slight hint of lavender.
The photographs mislead me. The description said – 9th floor. 9th. Fine all fine, but nothing said no stairs! Everyday, more than twice, I must step between walls too tight. A moving deathtrap. Terrible. Terrible, that elevator.
Categories: Short Stories