The apartment complexes looked like titanic bricks and had a lot of middle class families shuffled together into four rooms each. Everyone could hear everyone. Children played outside in those new kinds of climbing frames and in their sandboxes they imagined digging through the earth all the way to China. I turned my head. Outside of the entrance to the complex where I was going to move in there was a small gathering of wives and mothers chatting away, complaining about this and that and having a good time while keeping eyes on their little ones.
I walked up to one of them. A plump middle aged woman. “Excuse but do you know where the landlord lives? I am a new tenant here.”
“Of course dear” she looked very excited. “You just have to follow the first row till you spot a door with a sign saying P. A. Fredriksson ‘Landlord’. Should I open the door for you?”
“Thank you, and yes please open the door.”
As she did she presented herself. “Sara Wallinder” with a smile.
"Naomi Quest.” I smiled back.
The corridors looked and smelled new. The building had finished construction just a few years prior in 1961. I stopped in front of the door Sara had told me about. I knocked.
knock knock knock
“Who is it?!” a burly irritated voice demanded.
Pressing my right ear against the door I answered.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
"Herr Fredriksson, my name is Naomi Quest! I’m a new tenant here!”
He opened his door.
He was short, shorter than my 178, and very very fat with balding gray hair and a well greased tank shirt and to top it off a pair of smelly old khakis.
He grinned lecherously.
“Ah, now I remember, fröken Kvist, you want the key to your apartment.”
“Yes please. And it’s Quest, not Kvist. ‘Q, U, E,S, T’.”
“Yes of course, I am sorry.”
He handed her the keys and a piece of paper.
“These are the rules of the building and here's your keys. The apartment is located on the 3rd floor, door E. If there is anything wrong, don’t hesitate to call.”
He revolted me. I took the key. Just when I was about to leave did he stretch out his hand, wanting to do a handshake. My eyes started quickly analyzing it. It had stains of beer and cum on it.
Do I have to? I don't think I have much of a choice.
I took his hand in mine. "Welcome to building B!" And we shook on it.
“Thank you.”
I started to walk away. “Would you like any help finding it?”
“No thank you. I'll manage.” I said without turning.
"All right then, do you have any furniture coming by truck?”
“Yes, a bed, a TV and a wardrobe, that’s all I need.”
I found my flat where he had said. At the end of a corridor on the third floor. I put the key into the lock and twisted it. Opening it I found myself in a hallway. I closed the door. It was dark. I tried turning the lightswitch but alas it didn’t work. Sigh
[Night Vision activated]
I observed the hallway mirror. There was nothing except the darkness and me. A tall porcelain white woman with light blond hair down to her shoulders. Pink lips and blue eyes. Wearing a beige trenchcoat, white blouse, dark blue jeans and high heeled boots up to her knees. A leather bag slung across her shoulder.
I turn away from the mirror and duck under the door frame going into the living room. It was big with empty bookshelves. The only thing that it now contained was the Bible.
My things wouldn’t come till tomorrow so I pick it up to read it. I like the stories it told even if I wasn’t a firm believer in its message. And how could I be, having died once before.
Taking off my bag and coat, putting them neatly on the floor to work as a pillow and a blanket I laid myself down and started to lose myself in the stories it told.