It came through the door like a molotov cocktail.
Under Section 21 of the 1988 Housing Act, you are hereby informed that your tenancy of this property expires on the fourteenth of June on the year two thousand and one. The landlord will be repossessing the property on that date.
I have always bitched about my place. The 'shower' is a extremist in its temperature, the heating system is non-existent (in winter the place freezes), the cooker is dirty (our own fault I admit)....
So I was suprised at my own reaction to this eviction notice. I almost cried. Tears welled up in my eyes. I reread the notice over and over.
I guess I've grown to love this place. Ancient and obdurate. It was probably built between the wars. The landlord's own father lived here. I've made many friends here. Fellow tenants and people who have made use of our living room on short stays. Parties, watching TV, playing jenga, making love/shagging (almost every room has been 'christianed' by my girlfriend and me), trying not to hear through paper thin walls (ahem), playing kitchen football, calculating bills (every Tuesday night in more organised times), trying to tame the garden foliage with rusty clippers, fantasising, fighting, shouting, laughing, kissing, holding, leaving....
This morning all those memories flooded back (like the toilet did a few times). Will I ever find another place such as this?