18 Floors Above London
One morning, about two weeks, my flatmate Jacque asked me if I had noticed the wall lately – right behind the door. I had, just the night before. There was a long line of fuzzy greenish-black. I got a q-tip out of my room and swiped some of the fuzz. Yep. Mold.
Obviously, London is a damp place. And, I sometimes forget, but England is an island. But the big problem here was our leaky shower.
Word got around. Kenzie, who lived in the flat next to me, discovered some of this lovely mold behind her bed. I checked behind mine, and yep, mold. Fantastic.