Skip to main content
Like
Create new Glog
previous
next
Email share
33 views | 1 likes | 0 reposts
The smell of death lingered in the bedroom of that old apartment. Rotten body fat has a way of clinging to things. The landlord had tried every cleaning trick in the book but he only ever managed to mask the smell for a few days, long enough to show the apartment. Some poor sucker would invariably move in thinking the landlord was the sucker for renting the place for so little. But barely a week goes by before the flat is empty again. No one talks about what happened in there. Too many good memories of the young couple. He looked plain, with no distinguishing features save a small tattoo on his right shoulder, a perminent reminder of a single night of stupidity and inebriation. He was of average height, probably no more than six foot with light blond hair and a fair complexion. Kept a pair of wire rimmed glasses on his nose most days. Small oval lenses gave him the look of a hip business man or grad student. Sometimes he would take them off in the midst of a heated discussion and hang them on the front of his shirt.
