My Boyfriend’s Name is Teresa

<p>Many times Patricia wasn&rsquo;t punctual. That morning, she had arranged to meet her father for an aperitif at a bar in Malasa&ntilde;a, near the Tribunal metro station. She hadn&rsquo;t seen him for six months. Her father lived in a small village near C&aacute;ceres, in Extremadura, and was in Madrid for a few days on vacation with his partner and her daughter.</p> <p>Patricia lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in the Guindalera neighborhood. It was a first-floor apartment that overlooked an enclosed inner courtyard, nestled between buildings and not very well-lit. It was furnished with outdated furniture that was at least twenty years old but still in good condition; she didn&rsquo;t mind. She felt comfortable. She had even become friends with the landlady, who hadn&rsquo;t raised her rent by a single cent in four years and sometimes even forgot to give her the water bill.</p> <p><a href="https://medium.com/fourth-wave/my-boyfriends-name-is-teresa-d7edefc6843c"><strong>Visit Now</strong></a></p>