When I entered my new home, the building's landlord stared at me expectantly. It wasn’t exactly a house: more of a small apartment. The place was tiny even for one person: One bedroom, which also held a desk and a closet with a shower. In the very next room was located the kitchen with the bathroom. The bedroom was covered in a not so very clean carpet, but the kitchen was in artificial wood flooring that sparkled under the rich lighting that came from the window. The whole kitchen sparkled: the aluminum refrigerator and stove, the marble countertops. Although the kitchen seemed illuminated and spacious, the bedroom, on the other hand, had an air of sadness. It was dark and gloomy, the dirty carpet stains all over completing this feeling.

-" Well? Are you ready monsieur? We were supposed to commence the payment 13 secondes ago." - The snobby-looking landlord said. He had such a long, upturned nose that I could see 5 cm into his nostrils! I believe he was french, due to his way of saying his "r"s: they were so nasal, that it seemed he had a stuffed nose during a cold. He also stretched his "e"s sometimes. It sounded more like: "Well, harrr you rreadiiii, monsieur? ".

-"Ah, yes yes, let's start." I agreed.

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