Creative Writing

Merrier – For Some (CW19-2015)

I hate sharing my space. My sister’s motto – The more, the merrier. Where did all these people come from? Can’t they stay somewhere else? Cheapass fucks …

All these thoughts ran through Marta’s head as she walks into the one-bedroom apartment shared with her sister, Michelle. Being the angel that she was, Michelle suggested, on Facebook, that family and friends coming to Canada for the Pan Am Games are welcome to stay with us. Naturally, she forgot to inform Marta. It was not until Marta returned home after work that first evening that she met her cousins in the living room – They had just arrived from NYC. After that, the crowd just continued to grow.

It’s 2:00 am. Marta checks her Fitbit and rubs her temples. Remembering she has an exam in the morning. I just want to go to my bed – but I can’t because Margaret and Uncle Joey have taken over my bedroom.

Marta looks around her room and takes a few deep breaths to calm herself. Then she opens the closet door to hang up her dark blue jean jacket. No. Fucking. Way. Some idiot is in a sleeping bag, on top of her God damn shoes – He didn’t even have the decency to remove the shoes first, or push them aside at least.

“What the Fuck! Close the door.” The stranger yells up at her. He grumbles and turns toward the wall as she complies. Marta exists her room and looked around the dimly lit apartment. She walked over to the linen closet, grabbed a blanket and a towel. No way! Two people are already occupying the tub. 

Marta closed the door and turned around to get back to the living room. Couch? Taken. Chaise? Taken. Ottoman!? Taken (don’t ask). Floor space? None. She chose her footing carefully. Mindful not to step on anyone as she walk through the room. God! I wanna scream. I guess I will just have to stand and sleep as they do on trains in Japan. Then Marta noticed her beautiful Ikea desk. Would you believe two people are already curled up under it? 

Marta decided to sleep on top. She quietly placed her papers in the filing cabinet. Books on the window sill. “Here goes nothing,” Marta whispers as she steps onto the desk chair…

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Shawn L. Bird

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