'Boy?'
oh please, he's a divorced 40-year-old man living in his mum's basement.
I really cannot deal with her this early in the morning and I haven't had a sip of coffee yet.
This was too much for my poor wounded soul to take and it's only 8:00am.
"Hello? Are you listening Evelyn?"
"Yes?"
"Anyways as I was saying he found you a place to stay"
"Wait, what?" I asked in a raspy whisper.
Was I slowly losing my remaining sanity, or did I hear correctly?
She found me a place to stay?
Why would she do such a thing?
Did she finally take pity on me or was it possible that even the devil could repent?
I think the latter is more likely.
"Isn't that great I'm sure you are more than grateful but the neighbors will be even happier to see you gone"
she burst into a fit of manic laughter and then continued
"come on, cheer up now you know I'm only joking. Anyways you don't have to thank me but I'm sure Billy would appreciate that so say my hello to him as well when you meet him today"
"Today?"
"Aha, you have an appointment with the real estate agent in about 20 minutes so good luck and don't be late"
She hung up and I didn't move a muscle for about 2 minutes while trying to process what happened.
I admit it took longer than it should've and my first thought to myself was the obvious, could she be lying?
Of course, she could, what type of stupid question is that?
She most likely was but what was the worst thing that could happen anyways? I would get kicked out, end of story or perhaps there was a happier ending…
one where everything happening right now was real not a fever dream and luck would be on my side for once, probably by accident.
I shook my head and lightly scratched my slightly greasy hair.
'Oh shit, I don't even have time to wash my hair. I should definitely wear a hat' I mumbled to myself.
While deep in thought I hurriedly removed the blankets on the bed and found my black cap hidden under the pillow and quickly rushed to the large square bathroom mirror to fix my lazy attire.
The contrast between the colors that formed my outfit created a disaster or perhaps it could be seen as an artistic expression.
I placed my phone and keys in my purse while shutting the apartment door- a little too loudly I must admit-
and dashed for the street.