THIRTY-EIGHT
Alma“Huh,” I say out loud to my empty apartment. My boxes and bags of clothes are piled in the small living area, and save for that pile and myself … the apartment is empty. Completely empty.
Coming from the dorm life, I didn’t even take into consideration that the girl I subleased from would be taking all of her furniture and, well, everything else. There isn’t so much as a plastic fork left in the kitchen.
“How much does a girl really need?” Apparently, talking to myself is my new thing now that I’m without a roommate.
I don’t need much, honestly. I can get an Uber to the dollar store and get some paper plates, plastic silverware, and frozen dinners. At least there’s a built-in microwave. I can sleep on the floor. I have a blanket and pillow. It will be like camping. I d
