They put the flat I was renting up for sale, so I had to move out. I cleaned it thoroughly and left. The next day, my landlady called, and I immediately worried that I’d left something broken.
But instead, she thanked me for leaving the place so clean. Then she asked, “How come you’re not bitter like the others?”
I didn’t have an immediate answer. I just laughed awkwardly and said, “I guess I’ve just had good landlords.”
She laughed too.
“No, you haven’t. I remember when the boiler broke in December, and the ceiling leaked. You never complained.”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault the ceiling leaked in a storm,” I replied, downplaying it.
I had been frustrated, but what was the point of making a fuss? “You’re rare,” she said softly. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you.
Really.”
After the call, I sat on the bare mattress in my new place, just thinking for a moment. The new flat was smaller, darker, and more expensive. It was all I could find on short notice.
I was in between jobs, freelancing when I could, trying to hold it together after a breakup. My life felt anything but stable. But her words lingered: “You’re not bitter like the others.”
I didn’t feel rare.
I felt like I was barely keeping my head above water. The next morning, I went to a nearby café to apply for some gigs and look into a potential teaching job. I’d been tutoring English online, but the hours were unreliable.
At the café, the barista seemed stressed, and I overheard her saying they were short-staffed. I asked if they were hiring. She looked at me, confused.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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