Apartment #004

When her compad had been vibrating for what she guessed was 20 minutes she reluctantly left the comfort of the bed. Her cloths felt sticky and sweaty as she rose and walked over to the table, she felt severely unclean.

¤Heard you need a place to sleep. I have some room to spare if you are interested, send me a message if you want to crash her or else I’ll let a greaser move in ; ) Phily¤

Maybe things could work out if the luck continued like this, she thought sending a reply message. She opened the sliding door to her wardrobe and lifted down two boxes. She had hoped not to see them again so soon, the two boxes that was more than enough to contain her life.

When she had finished packing the boxes she threw her dirty clothes in one of them before stepping into the bathroom. Hopefully they had not yet turned off the liquid. She did not fancy the thought of going to Phil’s place, being sticky and stinking. Just because she was on the edge of becoming a rib or greaser did not mean she had to start living like them. She wanted to prolong her clean days as much as possible. The pipes rattled as the cleaning liquid came out. It was lukewarm, as always. C let her mind wander while scrubbing of the last few days’ sweat and dirt.

With a great feat of dexterity C managed to ring the bell to Phil’s apartment without dropping one of her boxes. They were not heavy, but all the more cumbersome.

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