Elsie sits in a coffee shop, poring over the browser. There are only a few possible rooms for rent left, and so far nothing has been even close.
All of these rooms are places with families, for god’s sakes.
The last thing she wants is a basement apartment with a precocious five year old at home rifling through her things, or the one where the Italian Mama is gonna watch her like a hawk to ensure she doesn’t seduce one of the sons. Or worse yet tries to fix her up with one.
Isn’t it possible to live privately anymore? She shakes her head and dials the number of the next one.
