Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

I moved into a new apartment in the city. It was cheap, the kind of place where the walls are thin and the floorboards creak like they have a story to tell. I didn’t care—I just needed a roof. The first week was normal. I unpacked, met a few neighbors, and tried to settle in. But then I started noticing things: small, odd details. My keys would be on the counter when I was sure I’d left them on my desk. The bathroom light would flicker even though it was new. At first, I chalked it up to stress