Evening ball Stories

Monday, 7.40pm I’m well into getting ready. I’ve just showered again, this time without company and without the audience. Even the two chairs the men were sitting on this morning weren’t there. I’m starting to wonder if it was all a dream. I’d ask my room-mate, but she’s just so damn unapproachable. She pretty much acts like I don’t exist. Fine, Petra, I’ll do the same to you then. She stalks out of the room in her towel....