Get out

April.

Maria and I were lounging on the balcony when Bea brought us some pineapples she’d just finished slicing. She placed the plate of pineapple slices on a wooden stool before sitting on a woollen one. All of us were trying to be positive but reality was not making it easy. Our spirits were low and we hoped to get a good gig that would deliver us from the new pit we’d fallen into. The fire had destroyed a lot of our things, taking us behind.

I had just reached over to pick up a piece of pineapple when I heard banging coming from the front door. We glanced at each other before standing up at the same time. Our neighbourhood was not exactly a safety net. When you heard something like that, you could only expect bad things.

“Who could that be?” Maria asked, frowning.

“I have no idea,” I stood up and walked into the kitchen before proceeding to the living room. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Anton.”

“Shit!” Maria, who had appeared next to me said.

Anton was the apartment manager of the buildi