Diary Drabble: Dorm

The hostel dorm room is exactly as she’d expected. Twelve beds, stained carpet, colourful art prints on the walls. She’s had sandwiches thicker than the mattress, and bedding – cheapest from Ikea – is faded from repeated washing and drying. Clean, at least; she can ask for no more than that.

The windows are open, the noise from the street blasting in along with the heat from the sun. Seasoned to hostel accommodation, she chooses a lower, middle bunk with a socket. As perfectly placed as she...