The City Apartment

I live on the top floor in an old Second Empire building with its double-pitched hipped roof. Daylight streams through the large bay windows creating a halo around me. I feel invincible here. The sun shines through sky-lights and dormer mansard windows.

I love my nest. Springtime brings magnolia blooms softening the angles. They gracefully fade to make time for dogwoods and lilacs. It's my happiest place, and I feel very grown-up and independent.

The city bustles and has a life of its own. From my perch, I watch busy street scenes below, and in this milling world, it makes me happy I’m never alone.

When night rolls around, the cityscape lights up silhouettes old and new. I'm blown away by the juxtaposition of the past and present. My walls hold generational history, but they're tight-lipped. Secrets that will never come to light exist here.

On the other hand, life through other windows spotlight people living in the present. I feel I know them all. A sense of kinship often grips me. I watch diverse families exhibit affection, love, and warmth. Some gather round cozy dinner tables, and their homes softly glow. The pangs I feel without my family are softened by these demonstrations.

There's always the friendly greeting, that polite acknowledgement, and a courteous, "How's it going?" Though I'm far away from home, I never feel alone here.

The red changes to green light on the street below. I know this even without looking down. The honks for split second delays remind me impatient humanity is just outside my door.

When I close the blinds, my world shrinks dramatically. I’m safe in the tiny room with quirky angles and ancient wide-plank floors. I love the character of the wainscoting, crown molding, and baseboard. There are so many little quirks here; a tiny loft, a sliding old barn door, nooks and crannies, and an enviable view of the animated city.

The beautiful brass bed with its soft mattress and goose-down duvet is most inviting. I've feathered my nest very well. The inconvenience of making the bed each morn is insignificant compared to the joy of snuggling into my cloud-like comfort at night.

I turn the lights down and let the outside noise lull me to sleep. It’s a blessed comfort to know I am never alone in this big city.

But even the city grows silent at some point in the night.

“Tip-tap,tip-tap!”

"TIP-TAP!"

My eyes flick open, but I'm still groggy.

"TIP-TAP!"

I sit bolt upright. In the darkness, an eerie twinset of lights glower at me. I use the faint light coming from an alarm clock, Something moves. It seems to be getting closer and closer.

My body gets into a fight or flight mode. The not-so-sympathetic nervous system is activated, stimulating an adrenalin rush.

“Lub-dub, lub-dub, LUB-DUB..”

Ah, the tell-tale heart! What if it can sense my fear ? I begin to shake.

The sound is really close now, a scritch-scratching on the brown paper box on my end table. I lose it!

"Mom, Dad!"

I realize I'm an independent girl in my first apartment. I'm calling people who are probably asleep in their quiet home in suburbia.

My screams alone could curdle a banshee's blood, but the glowering creature stands ground. I let it rip for what seems like eternity.

When it finally scurries away. I am left weak, trembling, and jelly-like.

Suddenly, I hear windows opening and a ruckus erupting outside. I peek through the blinds. Apartment lights flick on one by one, heads pop out, and I hear voices.

"Ya Lady, stuff a sock into 'yer piehole, won't ya?"

Uh-oh! Is that really the articulate grammar teacher?

“Shaddup, what do people need to do to get some blessed sleep here?"

That's got to be the "soft-spoken" Mrs. Putnam. Why does she sound like this?

“Quit yelling, I have an early shift!”

Oh no, that's shouty Mr.Boomer's two cents!

Everyone has something to say now.

A baby cries loudly. Didn't know little lungs could crank up such volume!

A generous round of expletives follows from nearly every window. This makes a dog bark setting off a howling chain across town.

"Quieeeet!" yells someone, and just like that, a hush suddenly falls over the place.

To think I felt a kinship here! No one wants to know the matter, and this is an uncaring world. What about my situation? Self-pity strikes me, and I want to go home.

Oh yes, my situation. Actually, I am glad no one knows of it. There's an upside in being anonymous and alone.

Everyone settles down, but I just cannot anymore. I look at the picture of the original home framed on the wall. It now has an eerie feel, and everything looks dark.

I keep on all lights for the rest of the night. The blankets are pulled up to my chin, and I shiver. I feel really, really alone in this big city...

″Tip-tap, scritch-scratch, squeak!"

...except for unwelcome visitors.