Nothing at all to do with theatre

This morning, I heard that Bree died. She was 29 years old.Bree lived down the road, at the commission flats. I didn't know her very well, but I knew a little about her life. Every now and then she would turn up at the front door. Usually she needed money. If we had it, we gave her some. Sometimes we were as broke as she was, and she got nothing.She always had a story. Sometimes I knew it was