I was standing in somebody else’s room looking up at the 80’s bumpy cake icing ceiling I heard an odd noise and felt some plaster fall onto my face from a small crack above me. The room was dark apart from the light coming in from the street lamps outside, the window ajar and the open curtains blowing slightly in the wind. Shadows bounced everywhere; it was quite a bare room with a double bed covered with plain white sheets, a wardrobe and a bedside table with a lamp on top and draws but nothing personal was around.
I walked over to the window and opened it fully before leaning out to smoke, as I stood leaning out the window a few people passed under me and into the door of the block of flats below though the front door. I finished, closed the window fully and sat down on the bed, now I had been alone in this room for at least half an hour. I had come here with a stranger I had met in the park on the way home from an awful party, I know I shouldn’t have come back to a strangers house but I just didn’t care.
The door burst open and a policeman walked in with one of the people I had seen walking into the building, they shone a torch in my face and asked what I was doing here and how I had got in. The other resident had called the police because they had though I had broken in, flat 216, the flat I had been in, had been empty for three weeks since the pervious tenant had been stabbed in the park.