In the beginning

I have many talents – unfortunately not all of them are very useful. Knocking drinks over, burning food, falling asleep in inappropriate places, dropping delicate items – including children – you name it, I’ve somehow ruined it.

I like to think it makes me fun and adds an element of uncertainty to what could just be a rather prosaic existence – spicing things up and adding colour to the carpet.

And who doesn’t have some sort of stain - that after much effort and old wives' tale remedies has prompted a casual plant purchase or furniture rearrangement.

But it seems, as I stumble my way through life, I have a particular talent for attracting dabs of chaos.

It all seemed to become apparent when I first moved into halls.

My dad in true dad-fashion had backed the car up to my ground-floor bedroom and was passing boxes to me through the window. Eager to get back on the road, my parents soon left me to unpack.

It wasn’t long before I heard a knock at the window. It was Sam, the previous tenant. Turns out his main aim wasn’t to welcome me onto campus but to explain the different scuffs and stains that he had left around the room, as if he had been busy marking his territory.

The main offender was a large black circle in the middle of the room where Sam, one drunken night, had got the culinary urge to make popcorn, left a hot pan on the floor and melted the carpet.

I stared down and then stared back. 

It was then I felt the baton had been passed. Cursed, I was to venture on in the spirit of Sam, the film studies student, forever leaving a mark in the most unexpected of ways.