Living With The Harpy

Living with the harpy presented certain difficulties. Her feathers clogged the shower drain, and the smell of unsavory meats cooked over chemical fires drifted from her room. She screamed profanity sometimes, as if afflicted with Tourette's, but with obvious glee. I occasionally found drowned mice in the coffeemaker.
This short story -- about a woman, her unusual roommate, and the inevitable dangers of love -- first appeared in Strange Horizons in 2002, and was nominated for a Gaylactic Spectrum Award for best short story the following year. Includes story notes by the author.