Those dreadful days...
I am presently packing my bags and in the process, I can't help but sit down to think about all the memories I have made in this house.
PS: Before we continue, kindly note that this is a fiction story and it is a continuation of last week's episode. If you didn't read it last week kindly go here:
This house is one of the constituents of my changed lifestyle. I remember the house I lived in formerly. A thatched apartment with numerous leaking spots on the roof.
Whenever rain fell, I'd pick up reserved buckets and place them where the drops of water from the roof touched. My bed used to get wet whenever rain fell and I wasn't at home. It was dreadful.
In such situations, I would have to sleep on the floor or the couch overnight.
Asides that, the house was built for business. It had eleven single room apartments with just one bathroom and toilet for everyone in the house.
I am sure that landlord wasn't considering the comfortability of tenants when he was building the house. But it isn't his fault anyways, that was the kind of house my penny salary could afford.
I remember how I used to wait to take turns if I failed to wake up before 5am to use the bathroom. Everyone in that house was a hustler so we all had to wake up early to fetch our daily bread.
There was no time for peace in that place. Neighbors were always on each other's neck, fighting for unnecessary things. Their noise wouldn't let me rest even after a long hectic day at work.
In those days, I used to be scared of having a romantic relationship with anyone because I thought that no lady would want to be with a wretched guy like me. So I just maintained my lane and hoped to get out of that hellhound someday.
But things soon changed for the better when I applied for a new job at a big firm and I was called up for interview.
I was scared because I didn't know what to expect from such a big firm. I just dressed my best, wearing my long lasting five year old super shined shoe and a suit my uncle abroad sent to me one time in the past.
I was interviewed by a lady and the first thing she said to be after greetings was “you are cute.” I was surprised. The last time I was called cute was during university days. Troubles and uncomfortability had made me forget my cuteness.
That lady was my gateway into the firm and we ended up becoming lovers. How did that happen?
By next week Friday, I will tell you how.
We will meet in tomorrow's newsletter,
PSS: Do not forget that you just read fiction.