My Own Couch

“Harlow, your apartment looks like shit.” Lynn strides past me and hopping over my pile of dirty laundry.

“Had I known I was going to have a guest at four in the morning, I would’ve tidied up a bit.” I bolt the door as she settles down on the sofa, clearly not planning to leave any time soon.

“Liar, you damn liar,” she rolls her eye as I plop down next to her. “We both know that you wouldn’t have moved one single thing even if you knew I’d be gracing you with my glorious presence.”

“Glorious, huh? Looks kinda shabby to me.” She looks anything but, clad in soft pink, clearly coming in from the bars after teaching last night.

“The children demand to dance, Harlow, I must oblige, even if it means bar-hopping in a leotard.” I snort at this but she barrels on through. “Speaking of, I truly must powder my nose, it’s been an age.”

“Lucky for you, I cleaned the bathroom yesterday.” She blows me a kiss before disappearing down the hall, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs idly, dumbstruck on my own couch.

Published by K. E. Diller

Young adult attempting to do a million things at once, including write books and follow my dreams.

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