room mates. ney. house mates.
Continued…
Bella’s the girl. The one who arranged the house. She has a lisp and looks ten but says she’s 19. She’s from Gloustershire and says “It’s ‘-sure‘ not ‘-shire,” and “I think you’ll need elocution lessons.” I get it. She’s posh. Like the Spice Girl. “No. Most definitely NOT like the Spice Girlâ€. She watches Prince William play polo. Her friend even snogged him once. Snogged = Kiss.
Paul’s the guy down the hall from me, by the loo=bathroom. But for a small orange tuft that sticks straight from his forehead, he has no hair. His teeth and eyes look lonely without anything to accompany them. His dad’s a minister of some sort. And he eats Wheetabix. Paul, not his dad. Last night we watched Toy Story – the pretty colors helped calm my nerves. So did the amitriptyline. He’s Bella’s age. I think.
Martin’s 21 and a stage actor. Apparently. When he’s not into social reform. His dad was in A Fish Called Wanda and Superman. Martin moves very deliberately. Meticulously really. And looks like he thinks alot. He’s graceful. Like a girl. And has an obvious arrogance to him. Like James Spader’s character in Pretty in Pink – if he were British. Martin looks like David Bowie. Youngish.
15 August 1998
