The Org by K.J. Hennessy EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: K.J. Hennessy
- Language: English
- Genre: Popular
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Bacch
I first met Cristina when she came for a rental inspection. I’d forgotten
about the rental inspection.
I awoke on the couch, sweating, to her knock at the door. I’d been
dreaming that Protectors were hunting me across a deep, ancient desert.
Wild & vivid. It was the third year of summer.
Looking around, there were pretzels & icing splotches & finger bun
crumbs everywhere. Ah. Bianca the Baker had been over last night. She
always came over after work with the day’s leftovers. Always too much
sugar. There is a finite number of donuts & finger buns a human being can
eat, and I’m merely human. Bianca was not merely human. She was a 6-
foot-tall goddess of water-polo-playing proportions. She moved her body
with smouldering precision. Ex-dancer. The cutest lil nose. Steely eyes.
Sydney was overrun by people clambering to live in boxes with views of
other people’s boxes. Prices had never been higher. I’d considered living in
a van before finding this old place in Surry Hills, countless jumbled storeys
of stained brick; beat up, haphazard living. Tiny green leaves peeked out
from cracks in the walls. I had some plants that I watered. It was home.
The other bedroom had been empty for a week. To cover rent, I’d tried
trading in cryptocurrencies, but still didn’t really know what they were. I
was also tutoring kids, and selling Bianca’s second-hand goods to other
residents in the building. Cheers, Bianca.
Whoever Cristina was, she would not appreciate all this sweet debris.
But what choice do you have when she’s knocking at your door? I checked
my phone for the time. Notifications claimed The Org had reinstated the
death penalty in Australia, even wheeled out the King to announce it. Too
early in the arvo for that shit. Perhaps these were just more false reports
from real news anchors, fake news about real events that never happened.
I wiped my eyes, put some pants on, and opened the door.
I’m in trouble.
Our soldiers blow each other into bloody oblivion across ravaged foreign
landscapes while I greet this fair lady at my door. The world has never been
fair. She tucked her long, light-brown hair behind an ear. A white summer
dress hung off her shoulders. Her smile was soft but her eyes were cautious.
“Sorry,” I said. “There’s been a food fight.”
She frowned a bit. “Are you … Bacch? Am I saying that right?”
“Yeah. Cristina?”
“Yep. Can I still see the apartment?”
“There’s cake & shit everywhere.”
“And … and what?”
“Oh, no, not actual … just cake.”
“Look, Bacch, I’m here to see the place. Please?”
I stepped aside for her.
“You weren’t lying about the mess,” she said.
“Great apartment otherwise.”
It really was, but it was scheduled for demolition – though no date had
been given. Developers owned it, so I advertised through flatmate websites
& not an agent. Real estate agents just want to fuck you over. Why does
everyone just want to fuck you over?
The kitchen was actually quite clean. Cristina remarked upon it. Maybe it
would be the saving grace. It looked out onto Central Station, a few IV
trees, lots of humans. The skyscrapers were melting like sticks of steel
butter
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