I'm not tonight

Anna

The sleeping bag at Margaretha’s stinks of weed like the rest of the place. I know they say it’s nature’s herb and all that, but it’s always smelled like crap to me. It’s only ever made me sick and giggly. I don’t really do giggly, so I’m better off without the shitty stuff.

Margaretha says it will chill me fucking out, but I do chilled even less than I do giggly. He stays up late with the TV on loud. The room is full of the stench, and when I hunker down under my grotty covers that’s when I come to realise everything smells of it here.

I probably smell like it here.

He has a couple of cats that he doesn’t let out. Their litter tray stinks even worse than the weed. Some random ex-girlfriend left them here, he told me once. He hardly feeds them, so I share my ham sandwich with them, loving the way they purr as they settle down under the covers with me.

Maybe I can take them on the road with me, but they’ll probably run away.

I wouldn’t blame them.

I’d run away from here too if I d