Vivienne Delaire
France, Lyon
I live in a tiny house the kind of house thats comfortable and rather awkward. The moment the old man showed me the. house I knew it was built for me.
All wood . Black oak wood. Glazed in a shiny
Substance. A big window facing the living room/kitchen. leather couch probably has been siting there for a while the type of couch you'll see your father laying on watching football. I glanced at The kitchen, the cabinet lathered with mint green paint and silver handles. Then we get to my room. 50 square meters, pretty decent for a room, pale orange walls and a moldy mattress.
"Not bad." I said my voice coming out softer than intended.
"All yours ,Won't change the price tho" the old man said his words coming out a bit slurred considering the language barrier the corner of his lips then twitch to a rather disturbing smile.
I walked around the kitchen opening the cabinets to check for any mold, holes or unknown ecosystems.
Found some. Nothing unfixeable.
"I'll take it." i said forcing an awkward smile. Fuck That was awful. im pretty sure I looked like a demon finding a sacrifice.
"Oka'y." The man said trying to hold back his excitement.
It was obvious hardly anyone would bother to check this rat hole. Perched awkwardly atop the old man's house, it looked like a house stacked on another, the upper one reached only by a narrow set of outdoor stairs. I figured he might've had kids… divorced, maybe? No..wait. I shouldn't overthink it; it wasn't any of my business anyway.
Although… I wouldn't mind knowing.