(The following is a personal essay written by my friend Natalie Sidner.)



“I need your nose.”

That’s the text I get from Patrick while driving home on Sunday afternoon.

Uggggggh. I roll my eyes and half gag, simultaneously. I know what he’s referring to.

Yesterday, which was Saturday, March 23rd — literally my declared move-out day — I noticed a smell coming from the master bathroom. The door to the master bathroom has been closed for weeks, so if ...

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