The exercise:
Write a little something about: the man upstairs.
Enjoyed my writing group this morning, even though only one other person showed up. We had a good chat, wrote a little bit, and then ended early - which was definitely fine, as I've got plenty of farm work to do.
This afternoon Kat and I finally got around to seeding some beets in the garden, then transplanted some cabbage and cauliflower. Temperatures were in the low twenties, so it was quite comfortable.
I also got a few color copies of our poster done at the local printing shop before putting them up around town to advertise our box program. Hopefully that will help us fill out the rest of our slots pretty quick.
Mine:
I never met with Mr. Fisher face to face, not even the day I signed the rental agreement. I filled out my copy, which I received from his lawyer, and then slid it under the door of his second floor apartment the next afternoon. I knocked but there was no answer, though I was certain I heard movement within.
After moving in, it took me about a week to realize that my apartment was directly beneath his. I'd called several times with questions about the building, mostly about the finicky laundry equipment, but had to leave a message on his answering machine each time. Answers would arrive in my mailbox, or under my door, on unlined paper in precise handwriting.
It was during the fifth or sixth call that I pieced it together. The distant ringing of a phone, the shuffling of feet above me, the faint beep of the machine. He was home, just refusing to talk to me. It was difficult not to take it personally.
My friends joked about it, claiming he was freakishly ugly, or a recovering mime, or not a he at all. I shrugged it off, but couldn't stop myself from wondering what his deal was. None of the other tenants in my building seemed to know anything, or so the few that would actually discuss it claimed.
I've never been a big fan of the unknown. I like my facts, I savor knowledge. Curiosity becomes fascination becomes obsession. By the end of my first month Mr. Fisher occupied my every spare thought.
