When apartment hunting this past fall, one of the winning points for the place I now call home is the terrace. It’s quite large and secured by the buildings that surround it. Without any balconies hovering above, my roommate and I can enjoy the summer sun as we please. However, there is one downside that I had not thought of before moving in–that people will mistake the patio for an open-air dumpster to throw all their unwanted treasures.
This morning I woke up to three unexpected trinkets–two towels and a dead bird.
In D.C. my first reaction would have been to call my mom…boyfriend…random stranger…anyone to take care of the corpse. Just seeing a dead spider gives me chills, and here I had a dead bird. Since I’m far away from home, my options to call for help were limited, and my (lucky) roommate was nowhere to be found. So I grabbed a broom, closed my eyes, and swept little Tweety into a trash bag. Ah, the challenges of living abroad.