A little bit closer to home.

At this moment in time, as I am over 11000km away from my home, I often wonder about what's going on in my own four walls, and the person renting my property.

Two months ago, when I checked my bank, I noticed that I had received a half payment from my new tenant. "Odd..." I thought, but assumed the money was for something else (Long story, sold a Chesterfeild sofa), and I assumed that the first month was merely deposit (I couldn't remember because the previous tenant had moved in quite some time earlier).

Then the next month came, and it fell short of the target again, by roughly a fifth. Deciding that my landlord had taken care of the garden duties, I put it out of my mind.

So, upon checking the bank last week, I see that there is nothing. I decide to call up ol' blighty, and ask the landlord what the bleedin' 'ell is going on.

"It's the new tenant," she tells me. "First she said her son was stabbed in London (plausable), then her mother had a heart-bypass operation, then the daughter was supposed to pay, but went on holiday!"

Blood pounds in the ear drums. Who the fuck is in my house?

Really, I have no clue. Rest assured legal proceedings have began against the sponge.