Uni library, girl brushed my hair behind my ear and asked for my name. I couldn't explain so she ran off. Outside was dark and there was a burnt out bike, youths loitering, a fire. A black girl asked me to come to her house. I thought she was just into goths and wanted sex but at the door she gave me the key and ran off, so I chased her to a crackhead corner. She seemed unhinged and said she'd murdered her husband and was never coming back, that the house was mine. I went back to it. The keychain had a single pearl and it all felt real, nothing from the house was missing. My reflection in the polished wooden floor was the real me, tried to take a photo of the gun, plastic bags with her husband's clothes, the bathtub still had bloodstains, I felt her husband's ghost was becoming more material and that he was a bad person, so I wanted to get out of there but I also wanted to explore. Brown wooden furniture, walls painted in shades of pink and cream, another bag with her false nails and hair extensions, a bedroom with too many teddybears.
