A Dear John Letter To My Sh*tty Apartment

Peace.

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.

To keep reading this story, get the free app or log in.
Read the rest of this story with a free account.

You’ll also discover more fresh thinking personalized to your interests and can follow your favorite authors, publications, and topics.
Or, continue in mobile web
Already have an account? Sign in

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store