Mates Being Messy
Her mouth fell open in astonishment as she gazed at the unpretentious, rustic structure that stood along a street bordered by light poles and trees. The building rose five storeys and housed thirty units, with a single loft apartment perched at the very top. The loft belonged to me. Occupying the entire top floor, it was spacious and private, and I cherished living there alone. That solitude, however, was about to change. When I arrived to pick her up, she had three bags packed with clothes and a handful of personal belongings she liked to keep close. As we drew closer to the entrance, we saw her brothers already assembled, forming a line across the front steps. Each one stood tall, dressed in their traditional attire that spoke to their heritage, arms folded across their chests. Their
- Writer
