SLIPPING OFF HER high heels, she sighs with relief – more out of habit than real affliction – and takes a step onto the fluffy expanse of carpet. The tendons in the back of her legs stretch. She pads into the pale, bright living room, taking in the bare walls and gleaming surfaces.
The carpet squelches slightly near the door to her bedroom. She swears softly, bending down to blot at it with a towel. Her hair must have dripped after her shower this morning.
Later, she sits on the edge of her bed, phone to her ear. ‘You’ve got to see the view, it’s really stunning.’
‘I can swing by tomorrow if you like?’
‘Maybe next week? I want you to see it when it’s all set up,’ she says, looking across the damp patch of carpet.
The apartment block is brand new. Although she moved in two weeks ago, she still catches the occasional whiff... Read more
To access the full text version of this article, login if you are a subscriber.
Subscribe to Griffith REVIEW or purchase the edition in our Online Store.