Hello dear readers. Finally got the guts to write a story on Nairaland. Been cranking up stories in my head for about 10 years. I'd usually start writing but would get caught up with life and drop the book. I love short stories cos I get to see the end really quick but they're tougher to write because you have to pack a lotta events into a limited amount of words. So expect lotsa shorties from me. But anyway, here it is. Criticize (nicely pls) and advise. Cheers.

Cars and trucks honked as they sped over the broken asphalt road. Everyone seemed in a hurry to get to a certain destination, and each driver felt every other driver was too slow.
The Girl walked slowly but with as sexy a gait as she could afford in her 5 inch red heels that pinched her toes in the front. Her hair was glued firmly onto her scalp with a mass of black gel and her hair extension was rolled into a neat bun on her gelled-up head. Nails were naturally long and painted a sharp fushcia pink. Her army green dress skimmed her slim silhuoette and accentuated her trim figure. No one could guess she was having a hard time looking elegant. Fashion is a b****!
She trekked a full kilometre before arriving at an iron gate that had been swung wide open on its rusty hinges. She raised a perfectly arched brow at the lack of security sense but shrugged it off. They had more to lose to robbers than she did.
The yard was littered with refuse of all sort, which was quite normal. Infact, it was one of the better days as some days the refuse consisted of rotten maggot-invaded food or dirty dish water. Even the occasional lump of faeces that was usually deposited in clear view by one of the nasty little brats that had been sired by the landlord was missing. It was a good day indeed
She noticed the white scrap of paper taped to her door and sighed heavily because she knew exactly what it was.
"This useless man won't even allow me to drink water and drop the cup sef", she muttered bitterly as she snatched the notice from her door and struggled with the rusty key and faulty lock until it gave way.
The light switch clicked and her room was bathed with a strong yellow light that thought to rival the sun. To call her room small was an overstatement. It was a tiny cubicle with enough room to hold a thin mattress, an old moldy dresser and a cupboard that contained her cooking utensils.
The Girl quickly undressed and changed into more comfortable clothing before unpacking her "kitchen" to rustle up a quick meal of Indomie noodles.
She normally set up the kitchen outside but she felt rather lazy and opted for indoor cooking which caused a lot of sneezing and coughing.
"Oh God! I have to buy a new stove as soon as I get money. This one is just giving me wahala". The meal was prepared as quickly as possible and the flame doused. She hissed several times as she scraped the pot to get out the last strand of noodle that had stuck to the bottom of the pot.
She placed the hot plate of Indomie on the floor and sat before it with legs spread apart and a satchet of "pure" water beside her. Just then her phone gave an ear-splitting peal as it chimed a ringtone that sounded like cats in mating season.
"Na wa for the person calling now." She would have liked to ignore the phone but as with all "chinko" phones, they could never be ignored due to the Chinese manufacturer's love for loud kalliope music. If the vibration of the gadget did not dig a hole into the ground, the ringtone would alert everyone within a 2-kilometre radius to her presence in the yard. So she picked the call.

"Babe, what's up?" She asked her friend over the line. Pause. She frowned then replied, "O girl, I'm just coming in from work. I'm tired and want to rest. Let it be tomorrow". Silence. She exhaled deeply before asking, "Are you there right now?.... Okay I'm coming."
She looked at her plate of food and realized she had no appetite anymore. She could not afford to waste a good meal so she dumped it right back into the pot and covered it tightly. The rats and roaches in the yard were a real menace. She quickly threw on a pair of skinny jean pants and a tight fitted t-shirt with the words "My Money Grows On Trees" printed in neon colours on the front. She donned a pair of black flats, simple jewelry and her purse. As she locked up her room, she hoped her friend would buy her something to eat because she was ravenous. She was a little lost in thought and did not look where she was going when she had the feeling she had stepped into something mushy. Hoping against all hope, she looked down at her feet and saw she had stepped into a newly deposited hot pile of faeces and the sole of one shoe was sh*t plastered.
"May thunder block the anus of the small devil that just did this thing right now!" She hissed continuously as she half walked and half dragged her besoiled foot towards the gate. She hoped she did not smell like sh*t. That would be really hard to explain.