Competition Thirty-Three Highly Commended: Renovations by Keenan Sands

I’ve been watching the walls dissolve for three weeks now. Not dramatically – they simply become less certain of themselves each morning. My neighbour insists it’s just condensation, but I’ve seen the plaster develop anxiety.

Yesterday, my living room became self-aware and started questioning its purpose. “What am I containing, exactly?” it asked as the ceiling sagged slightly in the middle. I told it I’ve been asking myself similar things for forty years and hadn’t figured it out either, but I’d let it know once I did.

I’ve tried whispering affirmations to the foundations at night and mindfulness exercises for the bathroom tiles, but I haven’t had any luck. The windows have developed a peculiar habit of showing yesterday’s weather, while my kitchen sink hums defunct radio frequencies.

The estate agent says it’s “characterful decomposition” and raised the rent. “People pay extra for buildings with personality these days, you know”, she explained, carefully stepping around the weeping floorboards.

So I did the responsible thing and took out insurance against metaphysical damage.

Today, they informed me that my insurance claim had been denied. They claimed that the dissolving walls were a pre-existing condition.

Keenan Sands is a London-born writer whose work has been featured in Flash Fiction Magazine and shortlisted for the London Independent Story Prize.

keenansandswriting.co.uk

Photo by Xiao Bo at Pexels