I wake up again, today, from another wild and free party. As usual, every Friday night, my three-bedroom apartment, which I paid for in full by the way, turns into a bar, strip club, and bash. You name it, and it has been it. My head is pounding. I cannot remember what happened last night, but the fact that I am so hungover today, tells me it was something awesome.

I have two girls in the bed with me. One of them is a black girl, and she is very beautiful with full lips and a round face. The other one looks Asian, and she has long hair and fair white skin.

“Come back to bed,” the Asian girl says, groaning.

Before responding, I put my clothes on and then wake them up by throwing clothes at them while shouting. “You need to leave, I have to work,” I say.

The two girls leave after a few minutes, and after they are gone, I sit down and hold my head in my hands. “Damn!” I mutter to myself because my head feels too big for my body.

While I am sitting there, there is a knock on the door, so I look up. “I’m not hungry, Mrs Shevon,” I shout. I know it is the old woman from next door, Mrs Shevon. She always brings me breakfast, lunch, and supper.

There is a knock again, and I sigh heavily. “This woman is deaf,” I complain to myself while walking to the door. “Mrs Shevon, I said …” I say, but I stop talking when I realise that it is not Mrs Shevon who has been knocking impatiently on my door. “You,” I finally say, after pinching myself to make sure I am not dreaming.

Instead of responding, the woman just stands there, looking so perfect with a huge smile on her face. She is still in the clothes I had last seen her in, even though her eyes seem a bit damp and darker.

“Honey, aren’t you going to let me in?” she asks, smiling with her hands on her hips.

I take a few steps back, and my lips moving, but no words coming out. After a while, the woman pushes me to the side and enters my flat. She then moves slowly into the kitchen and sits on her favourite chair.

“This was not the reaction I expected from you,” she says, watching my horror-stricken face. “Was there a party in here? You have been a bad, bad boy,” she continues.

Before I could respond, the door slams shut behind me. I turn and try to jerk at the handle, but it is stuck!

Tell us: What do you think could be the cause of his horror when seeing the woman?