Lisa

Nesting

My first night in my new home. I pretended to struggle with my over sized bag and carrying what were  mostly empty boxes up the six flights of stairs, locking the door behind me as I came and went both ways. It would be a shame if I were to return to an intruder intent on harming me.

I had been all over the city trying to find the right apartment before I landed this slum. The lighting was dim, the electricity crackled. There were holes in the walls. Crack heads were smoking in the hallways. It was absolutely...perfect. It is even within human walking distance of the new job I was starting tomorrow.

I don't out do myself settling in. It is not like I stay anywhere long.  A few well placed props to make the place looked lived in by an average girl. The heavier boxes placed just where visitors will bump into them; a half eaten frozen dinner in the fridge. I like to leave about a few books by some of my favorite authors. Oh Truman Capote had been a delight. Oscar Wilde an absolute VAMP! Shakespeare had been very handsome in his day, I believe equally gay, but he had horrible breath. To be fair though, so do sewer rats and they are still quite delicious.

I put clean sheets on the Murphy bed, humming to myself. I had chosen them carefully, wanting something feminine. They were printed with bright pink flowers that made me think of vaginas. Another illusion. I wouldn't dream of sleeping in this thing. Like any girl I tend to like my comforts so,  perhaps behind it. 

My tummy rumbles were interrupted by the sound of someone in the hall. Could it be the welcome wagon? I laughed to myself. I hope they brought muffins! Nope, just an argument about drugs. Addicts are the Chinese food of my world, they leave you hungrier then before you ate. I guess for tonight I would try the burger joint on the corner. With any luck someone would attack me on the way back.