I hate the place i’m staying in.
Two days ago, i finally met the housemate who stays on the top most floor. In front of the gate.
We looked at each other, somewhat excitedly, we shook hands.
“Hie, I’m Michelle.”
“Hie, I’m Ringo. I’ve been wanting to meet you since three weeks ago.”
Apparently the housemates have the level of communication akin to that of algae with sea shells. Konon nya living under one roof. This house is almost dead. No telly set, no couch, no washing machine, no human touch. I pass by myriads of other houses in this vicinity that are radiating warmth and laughter, some decorated with Christmas trees in preparation for a happy, hot Christmas. read more
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