I pride myself on knowing my folks and I don't imagine that anyone living here would've done such a thing as that. My husband and I started overseeing this building forty years ago. After he passed, my grand boy came to live with me and help keep the place up, but I still mind the people.
Let's see now, there are "The Bobbsey Twins" up on the seventh floor. Of course, that's just what I call 'em. They're a mischievous pair. They think they've fooled these old eyes by pretending there's just one of 'em living in that studio apartment, but I know there's two of 'em sharing the space. They might think their matching freckles and ponytails have fooled me, but one hums and the other chews her nails to the quick. However, I don't think they'd do such a thing. They don't cause any trouble, they're just poor.
Then there's Mr. Faraz. He was a professor for years. He's very private; I don't know that we've spoken more than a handful of words, but he's always polite, bowing and smiling. He's up on the fifth floor. You'll know his place by the smell of curry wafting out into the hall.
I know it couldn't be Mr. Pelko on the fourth floor. He hasn't been out of his apartment since he moved in. He has a terrible disease. What's that called? Agora-something-or-other. Poor soul. He hired Danny to shop for him and run errands. Best thing that could have happened to that sweet boy. Seeing as his father doesn't seem to much care about what happens to him, at least Mr. Pelko looks after him. They're good for each other.
There's that young couple up on the second floor, but they have their hands full with that new little girl. Oh, they longed for a baby for years and years. It broke my heart to watch them pine away for a little one, knowing they would be such good parents. Finally they adopted sweet Kotahi. I once heard another tenant remark that she was "damaged goods", what with her limp. Made me so angry, I refused to renew their lease. She's their little princess, she is.
Of course, Old Lady Robel wouldn't have done it. She's too busy with her birds in the courtyard. She shuffles down to her bench every morning with her pockets full of birdseed. I can always tell where she's been, following the little trail of seeds she leaves behind. She's lonely, but for the company of her little feathered friends.
Then there's...what's that? Well, if you've gotta go, I'll keep your card here. And I'll keep my eyes open for any curious characters.
|Image courtesy of Unsplash.|
500 words inspired by the above picture and the cozy-noseiness of neighbors. I was struck by the thousands of stories tucked away behind those windows and how they might be woven together.