It started when I went to bother Inga for the rent this month. I was already pissed off because I could hear myself thinking, I don’t want to bother her, but it shouldn’t be a bother to want someone to pay the rent on time. She still didn’t seem to be working, but she had also stopped complaining about not having work, which was even more disturbing. I could barely sleep all week, wondering what Inga was doing besides making money, wondering why it bothered me to worry about bothering her about paying the rent, until I got into a real existential crisis and decided I just needed to talk to her. So I came home from my job – my real job – and found her in the kitchen, picking at the polish on her nails, scattering little bits of red enamel all over the lumpy fiberboard table….

First published in Issue 10 of VOLUME 0 in November 2025.