10
The following day, Jerome sat on the sofa waiting anxiously for Wren’s arrival. He’d managed to take yet another shower without wetting his cheek, but his luck could only last so long. Sooner or later a drop or three of water would find its way to the right-hand side of his face and wash the kiss away.
She was late. What had happened to her? Was she hurt? Had one of the cockroaches killed her? But she said that the cockroaches were small and not dangerous. He had to believe she was telling the truth. To believe his own version of the world outside would be counter-productive and just put him in even more of a state than he already was.
If he went to the kitchen to check on the inspection hatch once, he went a dozen times. He would stare at the door, expecting it to open at any time a
