Unlocking My Private Locker: The Night I Gave In to Manou
Here in my private locker, the vault cracks open. This one’s buried deep. Bedroom haze, morning sun slicing through wooden shutters. 7:30 maybe. Ceiling stares back, blank white. Manou snores soft beside me, out cold till noon. I don’t move. House is alien, grandpa’s crumbling castle in nowhere-ville. Alice—that’s me—replays last night. Weekends like this:…