This place was still familiar to me. Nothing had changed; not the antique furniture, not the dark wooden floorboards, or the yellow Victorian wallpape.... There wasn’t a single thing that was out of place. Everything was still as it were, as if I had jumped back in time and was reliving my own personal hell. Something twisted and churned inside of me. All I could feel was the strongest urge to demolish everything in sight, break every picture frame, tear into the upholstered sofas, and scream at. I put on a jumper and went back to work. However, by 5 pm I could no longer concentrate, not because it was too cold but because I couldn’t get Mikey out of my mind. Would we go to bed again? Was yesterday just an aberration? Was she attracted to me as much as I wanted her? What about her husband? My head was twirling. I paced around the living room and finally decided to go upstairs and put on some better clothes; obviously had to make a good impression on my plumber. At that ridiculous. More

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