this morning #86.

this morning, the ceiling to the left of her bed seemed to be taking on an increasingly urgent stain. if it continued this way, she’d have to deal with the super. that was the last thing she wanted. on a regular day, the idea of work seemed to exasperate him. a holiday phone call might send him over the edge. truth be told, she was petrified of him & repulsed by the way he smelled. she assumed it was an “indian thing.” for now, she’d take a pic of the damage, focus on breakfast & check in on the stain in an hour. the apple jacks didn’t distract her enough. visions of dirty water crashing down on her bed took over, so she left the building to fruitlessly walk off the fear.