Leave this empty
The suburb and the shape of it. Two bedrooms, a unit, a whole house.
Both, and the hard part matters more. A woman who arrives knowing about the afternoon sun and the steep driveway is a woman who stays.
A dog. A grown daughter home some weekends. A woman between two jobs. Say it here and the right person finally recognises herself.
What actually happened, rather than a rating. How long she stayed, and how it was left.
Weekly, and anything that comes with it.
The question every woman asks and almost nobody answers before she signs.
The last one is not a question. You are handing somebody your investment property, and the woman reading this is deciding whether it is home. Write her the line that hands it over.
This Is What She Reads
Your words, exactly as you wrote them. Esmeralda leaves every one of them alone.
Yours to change at any time, and it starts where nobody can find you.