Daily Dreaming

I inspected the peeling walls of a dingy, worn out lounge. This was the latest in a long line of student houses that I had viewed, trying to find somewhere semi-livable for the year to come. The ceiling hung low, within arms reach, and was covered in stains from a long period of misuse. The staining was particularly pronounced around the cheap, circular light in the centre of the room. The wall paint, or what was left of it, was some kind of dark olive green. Speckled with chips and scratches, it looked as though it had been some time since the walls had seen a good lick of paint.

I was stood in a doorway off centre to the left of the room. In front was a dated sofa bed, stretched out with the end facing a TV upon a low stand. Directly opposite me was another door leading towards the front door. Other than that, the room was empty. It was certainly not a promising start.

For some reason my flat mates were running late, and there didn’t seem to be a letting agent around, so all alone I made my way back down the hallway that I had come from. To the left was another door leading into a bathroom. If you have ever seen a student flat, you can imagine exactly how this one looked; a basic white bath in one corner, a sink and toilet opposite and not much more. The walls were peeling here as well, and on the ceiling were early signs of mould. In the top corner an extractor fan was spinning slowly and ineffectively.

Having seen enough, I turned again and re-entered the hallway. Now looking at the wall opposite, I noticed something that I hadn’t before. There was a small gash that was letting in a beam of sunlight from outside. This was giving the corridor all the light that it could get, as the light above was missing a bulb. Following the beam to the floor, I could see the state of the carpet and thought it best to move on. Dwelling on what the origins of the various stains could be was not something I was keen to do.

Heading back towards the room I had started in, I finally heard the front door open and close. My two flatmates entered from the far corridor, carrying bags and luggage alongside them. Despite the condition of the property, they seemed to be in good moods. I was confused; I didn’t remember accepting that we were going to be living here. It seemed that my input was not required. They had decided this was where we would be living, so I had to put up or shut up.

I headed past them out the front door, now apparently ready with all my belongings waiting in a car outside. As I began unpacking, everything else faded until eventually I awoke. Although the house had looked pretty awful, it wasn’t too far away from what I had experienced as a student myself. In a funny way, it brought back memories of simpler times.