Space (Antediluvian)

‘We need space to live. We need space to feel that we are part of the world and not a kind of piece of object in a box.’

...

So I’m still looking for somewhere else to live. Nothing against Keith, bless his cotton, allegedly non-semen-contaminated socks, but I really need to be on my own. Plus he’s seeing a lot of Tilly now – hence his lack of any substantial resident art of late – and three is definitely a crowd.

So I’m looking. And whilst I was looking just the other day, I found a recently refurbished one-bedroom loft flat in Denmark Hill. It’s not the area I want to live in, but it was relatively cheap, so I had a look anyway.

It didn’t sound at all bad. ‘It is a beautiful and bright flat,’ said the write-up. Great! ‘Modern open plan fully fitted kitchen.’ Wicked! ‘Modern bathroom with white goods.’ Bonzer! ‘Furnished with modern furniture.’ Fantastic! It all sounds so modern! Only £850 a month and ‘All bills included’. I’ve heard enough, you’re thinking. Where do I sign?

But wait. There’s a catch.

The catch is, this flat is not big enough to swing a gnat.

Check out the ‘double bedroom’...



Sure, it’s a room, and it’s got a double bed in it, but really. I get short of breath just looking at it. Is it perhaps some kind of joke?

Apparently not. Here’s the living room...



That little cupboard to the left is the guest bedroom.

‘Ideal for professionals,’ it says, carelessly neglecting to add the word 'midgets'.

Maybe I should move to Brazil.