Otto and Mandy, by Fliss Zakaszewska

Otto was blotto but Mandy was randy. “I feel shick,” he slurred, vision blurred. With that, he rolled over and snored like a dog.

Mandy pushed him away and folded her arms. “Frustrated,” she muttered as she cocked her head and listened. “Is that someone in the flat below? Thought it was empty.” She grabbed her phone and sent a text.

‘Yes, and yes. Just got home from sea,’ came the reply.

Smiling, Mandy crept downstairs. “Thank goodness for Handy-Andy.”