Knock at the Door

Lying alone in an unfurnished apartment. The clock ticks on the wall, tick tick tick tick. The loneliness  is unbearable.

As I walk into the kitchen for a glass of water I hear foot steps at the door. Skipping to the people to see a new face but there is none. A door is heard slamming down the hall but nothing can be seen.

Back to the room, I say “room” because there is only one in my small studio apartment in the city. I lay on the freshly vacuumed carpet, next to my drawings and journal and I stare at the textured ceiling, faintly I can hear two people making love. Quietly and infrequent, I here the grand finale. Finally some quiet.

Waking up to the sound of knocking I hurry to the peep whole. I can see someone fleeing down the hallway just in the corner of my view. Opening the door to step out but the chain lock is on and slows me down. I step out and can no longer see the stranger.

I resume my position holding down the floor. I stare at the ceiling and imagine that my powerful gaze is the only thing supporting the roof and the ceiling above me. This power I have come to develop over the last three days. Waiting for furniture to arrive from the old place could take up to a week.

Being in a new town was bad enough but now being in an entirely different city was even worse. Not knowing(or not wanting to know) anyone can become very lonesome. But not lonesome enough to pursue a relationship, even a friendly neighbor kind of relationship. The kind of neighbor that gets the mail and waters the plants when the other is on vacation. This seems like a simple enough relationship that it would seem manageable, but not for me.

Another knock wakes me from my thoughts. Hurrying to the door this time I see and hear a door slam across the hall and down one. 

Walking  quietly, the short distance to the neighbors door I here inaudible voices coming from behind the door. Quietly listening as I press myself against the wall near their door. I try to control my breathing to remain undetected. I can make out slight laughter in conversation. I assume they are laughing about me. I hear a door open down the hall and sprint back to my room.

I wait watching as the intruder walks past my doorway and on down the hallway. I wait another minute and return to the neighbors door, quietly and undetected. I am close enough I can here the voices again. Thinking about what to do next I knock on the door. Trying to sound as angry as possible in my knocking a perfect Ostinato reminding me of the Omen of Spring by Stravinsky. My abrupt knocking resounding like the percussive strikes of the stringed instrument. The neighbors replying in a woodwind giggle and conversation lowered.

I knock and knock. No answer to the door. Infuriated I open the door with a slam!

No one in sight. I search through the house, this was the much larger two bedroom model. Looking through each room, each closet, and every  space in between there was no one and nothing in the apartment. It was even more empty than my own yet unfurnished apartment. Feeling a strange sense of urgency I run out of the apartment leaving the door ajar. I make it to my studio, slamming the door, my apartment, my safe haven, my refuge.

I resume my roll holding the ceiling in place while keeping the flooring properly secured. I think about how nice it will look with furniture in it, how comfortable it will be, where it will be arranged.

I awaken to the sound of the clock: tick, tick, tick… there is a knock at the door. Immediately I run to the peep hole and the sight of the neighbors door slamming… across the hall and one door down.