My taxi driver must’ve honked the horn an excruciatingly obnoxious amount on the way home, but I was feeling generous and threw him a hundred as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. I shut the door, my oversized T-shirt almost getting stuck. Luckily, my reflexes grabbed it and prevented me from almost being dragged down the streets of New York.
I reached inside my bag for my key while I was heading up the stairs to my loft apartment. It sounds fancy, but in reality it was the cheapest one I could find in a decent area. And one that would allow me to keep a window open without fear of being kidnapped. Of course, there was a price to pay. I turned my oven into a storage area for my shoes and my bedroom was my living room. I had a bathroom with just enough space to dry my hair with a towel without hitting the walls if I was careful.
I let out a deep breath after climbing three flights of stairs and unlocked my door. Everything was just as I left it. Dishes in the sink, a saucepan with leftover egg residue in it; my bed was half made and multiple outfits were spread about that didn’t fit the bill of what I wanted to wear last night.
Another sigh left my lungs. I flew my satchel on the granite counter and opened the fridge for something to eat. My stomach was rumbling and my head was still pounding. I saw cheese and orange juice. Sounds good to me, I thought.
I rinsed out the egged-pan to make room for the grilled cheese I was about to make and poured myself a glass of OJ.
Looking around the white walls of my apartment, the only color my black, white and brown blocked-type comforter and what little brown furniture I could get inside, I recalled the burgundy-stained walls of this morning’s room. Maybe some color would boost my mood, make me more...enjoyable to be around.
An unpleasant smell brought me back to the moment and as I looked down I quickly turned off the burner before I lost my grilled cheese to the stove. I moved it onto a pa...