Saturday, July 27, 2013

Nineteen

The flat mate will be leaving me for a nicer, more spacious home. My aunt needs a cat for her garden to keep mice and larger insects dead. The flat mate has proven her hunting skills with two cockroach carcasses to show for it, so she's moving on to better things. Which is good and sad for me: the former because I don't think I can handle any more scratches, and I've caught the ringworm; the latter because I've gotten used to having another living creature that's not insectoid hanging around me. I hate to admit it, but it's going to be a bit lonely without her.

Self pity.

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