Hm Day!

While Michelle's sleeping, you rifle through her things. Mostly bills and official looking papers, some weed, some photographs, a lot of one guy who is less attractive than you. His arms are around her sometimes. Whatever. You won't ever be seeing Michelle again, probably, so you just wanna learn a little bit about her before you run back home to change before you go to work.

You hate having to get up this early. But everyone you sleep with has a better apartment than you (you sleep on a twin-sized mattress on the floor of a semi-private bedroom). So it shall be done. But not before you rifle through a drawer or two, a drawer or two containing remnants of a girl.

Letters, a shitload of pens. Drawing pencils (only one sharpened, looks like the point is barely dulled). Printed out emails (get the hell outta there). A passport. Where's she been?

"Hm."

Two stamps. One for Argentina. One for the Phillipines.

"Hm."

In her passport picture she looks like hell. Very different hair. No, completely unrecognizable hair. And the name on the page reads Nina Kreplovich.

She said her name was Michelle.

"Hm."

You go home to change before you go to work.

Happy Hm Day!