Not Messy but a Slob
The moment your eyes meet lightning strikes. The evening seemingly pre-ordained, each minute better then last. Then an invitation extended, an uncontrollable sense of urgency that consumes you both. Check, taxi, stairs/elevator, door and the need to restrain oneself evaporates.
Then inevitably ones full range of faculties’ returns. If an
early riser you gaze upon their still sleeping form thinking of the good
fortune that brought you here and then BAM! First thing that hit you is the
smell. Not horrible, but defiantly an indicator that something is amiss. Next
you see where you are and it is a right and proper tip.
Not clutter, that can be dealt with, but a real mess. Then
imagine this squared with the fragrant bouquet of pets.
What would you do?
What would you do?
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