Roachville

I trotted back to my house, head-butting tiny flying insects and brushing past the dark green hedges of the back alleys. Two silent cats crossed my path, giving me disapproving looks.

By the time I got home I was out of breath, gulping the balmy air and spotting Ely’s nonchalant frame leaning on the neighbour’s garden wall. Before I knew it, and as if transported in fast motion on a horizontal escalator, I was by Ely’s side.

‘Hey you!’ he said with a sparkle in his blue eye. ‘I got your text earlier on. Sorry I didn’t reply, I was busy. Then I thought it’d be cool to give you my answer in person. I’m free now.’ He looked amused.

‘Are you flirting with me?’ I put on a very serious face.

’Mm-hmm.’ He scratched his right eyebrow and then his chin. ‘Please respond to my flirting,’ he added as I walked ahead of him into the house. I dropped my bag and turned round. I wanted to take his arms and drag him to the living room but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. His eyes were directed above me, fixed on something in my living room.

‘What?’ I asked. ‘What’s up?’

‘You’d better take a look for yourself,’ he warned, gently turning me around.

‘Shit...’ I whispered, taking in the devastation.

Within twenty-four hours, my house had gone from averagely furnished to Zen simplicity to complete chaos. The meagre possessions that Mac had left behind were destroyed beyond recognition. Small bits of red cloth, once my beloved red cushions, were scattered about. There was soil everywhere and the plants had been torn apart. As I stepped through the wreckage, I noticed that all the books had been slashed, one by one: someone had taken their time doing this, and the carpet was now ripped off the floor. I made my way to the end of the room and looked up the stairs where the same carnage had taken place. Broken pictures, the painting of the Great Wave was gone… Swallowing with great difficulty, I realized there was even more damage; every single step in the staircase had been broken and the garden had been turned upside down. Broken pots, uprooted flowers and plants. I couldn’t face climbing upstairs.

‘I don’t think I’ll get my deposit back.’ My voice trembled.