September, Week 2, 2013
We got to the bottom of the hill and behind the house at half-eleven in the evening. It was ten-to-twelve by the time we had the courage to move near the front. Carl was standing near enough for me to hear him breathing. He had eaten so many chips that the smell of his breath meant I could almost taste it through my nostrils. “Could you back up?” I said. He ignored me and moved to a tree next to the entrance of the house. Both of us hadn’t seen or heard anything besides Mother Nature since we had been waiting. Carl swore and made his way to the front door then unlocked it. I followed behind him. When we were both inside I gently pushed the door back until it was almost closed but not shut.
“I think everyone’s asleep,” Carl said.
“Good,” I answered.
I rubbed some of the water out of my hair then started to look for the light switch, but I couldn’t find it in the dark. Carl had started moving to the living room but then shouted and flinched embarrassingly. I heard animal steps come forward and felt the cat rub against my leg. It purred then left the house through the gap in the door. I looked at him and laughed then made my way to the kitchen. As I did so a light came on. Carl looked at me as if to say that wasn’t him, and then I felt an arm grab my shoulder and pull me back. I knew who it was from the look on Carl’s face and it almost made me chuckle. The man holding me lifted his other arm and pointed at my housemate:
“Rent?”
The story behind that week: I wasn’t behind with my rent, but I was out till late most days of this week. On one return home, I realised I had left my keys inside earlier, but conveniently my landlord opened the door before I even knocked. Besides that most of the week wasn’t worth fictionalising.
Inkposts 