The moment I walked in the door yesterday I smelt this terrible stench. It was un-missible, foul and nose-choking like ammonia. I was wondering what it was.
And I found out what it was. Kitty had apparently peed on the carpet at the front door. When you walk through the door you could see it, a big dark stain on the carpet. And if you couldn’t see it, then at least you could smell it easily. But nobody bothered to ask why, let alone clean it up.
So I asked how long it’s been there. Just a week, they replied. A week of foul stench at the front door and nobody bothered to do anything.
That’s not the only mess I’ve come back to. On the balcony were confetti from some wild party… glittering stars, hearts and ribbons lay on the ground and had been there so long that the colours had stained the tiles. The toilet bow was black with shit, and nobody bothered to give it a brush. Magazines and advertising papers were strewn on the toilet floor like a tornado tore through it recently. I found slices of salami that had been sitting in the fridge for almost as long as I had been gone. I dare not open it and smell it, fearing that I might faint. A pot of jam and carton of garlic butter had grown hairy moulds.
One month away, and all this mess... A big joke, n’est pas?