I return to my dorm for another
school year. I have a large rucksack on my back. I walk along a footpath on a
hill which levels out with a two-storey building below me. I enter the building
through a single glass door with a wooden frame at the end and enter the
corridor. I turn right and at the end are two wooden doors. I unlock the one on
the left and enter my apartment that I share with five other people. In the living
room, in place of where our telly should have been, is a DJ table set up with
speakers in place of legs and there’s a mixing desk on top alongside a silver
metal briefcase full of CDs. Above the table is a metal frame with a lighting
rig attached to the top. The DJ is wearing a brown pork pie hat and some large semi-circled
shades. All the doors to the bedrooms are open, and each one has someone else’s
stuff in them. I spot my flatmate in the kitchen who tells me that she doesn’t know
what’s going on, and walks out.
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