A Dear John Letter To My Sh*tty Apartment


Photo and botany by Jay Mckay Miller.

We met six years ago. I was so innocent then. Willing to fork over any amount of money and apparently climb any number of stairs in order to find an apartment in Brooklyn outside the Hurricane Sandy evacuation zone that was available in two weeks so I could move to town and start a new job. You have three windows, the apartment version of a man bun, so I said yes.

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