They looked up at the unassuming apartment building. 

“Welcome to your new home!” 

They turned to see the blonde realtor making her way over to them, cheap champagne bottle in one hand while the keys were in her other. 

As they were entering the building, they stood to the side as an ambulance gurney and two paramedics wheeled out a covered body. 

The couple glanced at one another - inauspicious, their eyes said - before the realtor waved it off, saying to the side “There are a few older tenants here - unfortunately I think that was one of the old dears,” before pepping up once again once they got into the elevator. 

Small talk ensued - moving day all set up? excited to be moving in? etc. - until they got near to their door. The door nearby opened up and one of the aforementioned older tenants appeared with a wonderful aroma of baking. 

The realtor stepped in. “This is Mrs Crow, your new neighbour - Mrs Crow, this is the lovely new couple renting the apartment next to yours. Greg and Sarah,” 

“Oh, such a beautiful couple. Welcome to the building - here,” she handed over the baking tray of delicious-looking cookies “I hope you enjoy your new home here,” 

Greg took the tray, thanking her and more amiable noises were made until Mrs Crow went back into her apartment and the remaining three went into theirs. 

After the realtor had finished her spiel, Greg and Sarah were left alone at last. They embraced, smiling. 

“What time is it?” she asked. 

He told her. “Movers should be here in an hour. What do you want to do?” 

“Kinda hungry,” she said. 

They looked at the baking tray of cookies. Sarah pounced and immediately shoved one into her mouth. “Ugh!” she exclaimed, spitting it out, then ducked her head under the kitchen tap, running water into her mouth. 

“Really?” said Greg. “They smelled so good in the hallway,” 

“Have you ever tasted cat biscuits? That’s what that tasted like. So hard too! I think I chipped a tooth on them,” and she picked up her phone to look at her reflection. 

“Weird,” said Greg. “I guess not all old ladies are good at baking,” 

*

Greg woke up refreshed. He always slept well on Friday nights, not stressed about waking up early for work. Sarah always woke up at 6am though, weekends or otherwise. She’d sneak out to get on with her day, leaving Greg to sleep as long as he needed to. He turned to see she wasn’t there, as expected. 

He knew he shouldn’t - he was trying to limit his screen time - but he picked up his phone to see what time it was: 11.30am. Phew. He must’ve needed it. Wait - why did the phone say Monday? He sat up, began checking his mail, the news, his social media - Monday, Monday, Monday, they all said. 

That’s - that’s impossible? he thought, feeling more panicked by the moment. He would’ve set the alarm on Sunday night before going to sleep like he always did. He grabbed his things and rushed off to work, concocting plausible excuses as he did so. 

*

Greg was telling Sarah about his awful start to the week over Chinese takeaway. 

“You didn’t get fired then?” she said with a grin. 

He shook his head. “Ended up telling the truth  - you know I can’t lie - and had half a day’s holiday taken off. It’s so weird though - how can I have forgotten the weekend? I took Friday off so we’d have three days to move in and unpack everything, but I could swear we just got everything moved in yesterday and we had two more days to unpack.” 

Sarah finished chewing and said “Must’ve been more tired than you thought. Moving and unpacking is tiring,” 

“Oh, what - have you got internet?” 

Sarah looked up her phone. She shook her head as she had a mouth full of takeaway. 

Greg got up to fiddle with the router. It was out for the rest of the night and they both ended up using their data instead. An engineer was booked for the day after tomorrow.

*

Loud thumping woke them both up in the middle of the night. 

“What’s that?” asked Sarah. 

The thumping resumed and a muffled scream was heard. 

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“That’s the neighbour, Mrs, er… cat biscuits?” 

“Crow but I like Mrs Cat Biscuits better,”

“Right,” he said, getting out of bed and making his way to the door. “I’ll ask her to keep it down - see what’s up,” 

He knocked lightly on the neighbour’s door which snapped open before he had even removed his hand. Greg was shocked awake by the anger in Mrs Crow’s face. 

“Can you PLEASE keep it down?” she said. “I understand house-warming parties and all that but there are other people living here. You MUST be considerate of them!” 

Greg shook his head. “I… we were asleep. We had the house-warming party last week. Uh… do you think it might be one of the other neighbours?” 

Mrs Crow’s fierce expression could strip paint off. “We share a wall - no-one else. PLEASE keep it down!” 

Greg began to protest again but she slammed the door on him. Sarah was standing in their doorway. “She says we were making a racket - she thinks we were having a party?” he said. 

Sarah made a disbelieving face, the two had a quiet chuckle, and went back to bed. Less than an hour later, the thumping and a faint scream came from Mrs Crow’s apartment once more, but Greg didn’t bother getting up this time. He lay there with Sarah, who slept through it, and exhaustion overtook him after a half hour. 

*

They were awoken again in the early hours the following night by the smoke alarm in the kitchen going off. 

They rushed into the kitchen to find charred bacon in a pan that was emitting black smoke. Sarah rushed to open the windows while Greg dumped the pan into the sink and turned on the water. They grabbed cloths and began flapping it about to disperse the smoke. 

They explained to the firemen that they had dealt with the issue and that it wasn’t a problem, really, so sorry for wasting their time, and when they walked back to their apartment, they passed a disdainful Mrs Crow who slammed her door on them before they could say a word. 

“Were you cooking or something?” asked Sarah to Greg, already knowing the answer but asking it anyway. They both said they were asleep and had no idea how something like this had happened. 

They eventually fell asleep around 5am, tired and confused.

*

They were both more irritable with each other that week but Greg put it down to the lack of sleep and strange occurrences they had gone through since moving in. Then Sarah said something that threw him off: “Have you seen the cat lately?” 

He looked at her to see if she was joking. “We don’t have a cat,” he said. 

She looked back at him, dismayed. “Of course we do - our black cat, Crow?” 

“Wha…” he didn’t know what to say. “You mean our neighbour, Mrs Crow, who gave us those cookies made out of cat biscuits when we moved in?”

She made a face at him. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not! If we had a cat, we would have a cat litter tray, wouldn’t we? And cat food and things?” 

“That’s right,” she said, walking to the kitchen with Greg trailing her in disbelief. “And here they are.” 

He couldn’t believe it. There was a cat litter tray on the floor with water and dry food dishes a few yards away. He peered at them to see if they were brand new but they looked old, used. He felt dizzy - he needed to get out of here, get some fresh air. 

“I’m gonna go… er, maybe the, eh, Crow, got outside somehow?” 

Sarah nodded and continued searching the apartment calling out the cat’s name. 

After Greg stepped outside, he noticed the estate agent from last week was opening Mrs Crow’s door. 

“Oh, is she thinking of selling?” he asked. 

The woman turned around, eyebrows knit. “Why would I sell my home?” 

He paused. “Your… isn’t this Mrs Crow’s apartment?” 

“Yes,” she said, then quickly went inside. He heard her attach the locks once the door was shut. 

*

Though he had taken to deliberately being mindful of setting his alarm for work and asking his wife to nudge him if he wasn’t up by half 6, Greg was still late for work again that week. 

“I got called to the door and had to help a neighbour who had locked herself out,” said Sarah when he angrily asked her why she hadn’t woken him when his alarm had failed again. The exchange didn’t exactly improve their relationship any. 

He had since bought two new alarms, having given up on the one he had had for years, as well as his phone alarm, both of which had stopped working for seemingly no reason. It got worse: he had begun waking up early and frantic on weekends so he couldn’t even enjoy the lie-ins that he had previously treasured. 

One day he returned from work to find Sarah wasn’t there. The cat was gone too. No note from either of them. Greg was too tired to really get worked up. He ordered some takeout and collapsed onto the sofa. A break would probably do them both some good, he thought, as he drifted off. 

He awoke, as he always did these days, confused and panicked. Had someone knocked on his door - the food delivery? Then he looked at his phone, and looked at it again - that couldn’t be right. 10.30 AM? It had been nearly 8pm when he placed his order - had he really slept all night on the sofa in his clothes? 

He spritzed himself with cologne and bustled out again to work. 

*

Greg knew he was being watched at work now - his lateness had become too noticeable and frequent. Whispers abounded that he was a drunk or a junkie or both. 

He had a performance review first thing in the morning and, though he knew it was an untenable position, he decided to stay up all night so that he wouldn’t oversleep. He would explain his predicament to his boss tomorrow, maybe see a doctor as well. 

He returned from work that evening exhausted but happy that his plan had worked. His boss had been understanding but strict that he would need to sort his problem out quickly and soon. 

He was planning to make an appointment with the doc and figure out what had happened to last night’s food delivery when he realised his code to the building wasn’t working. He tried it over and over, then got out his phone and checked - it was the right code. Someone must have changed it and not told him. Luckily someone was leaving and he got in that way. 

Except his key also didn’t work in the lock. He put his head to the door gently. It took a lot for him not to scream or punch it in that moment. 

“Excuse me,” said a familiar voice behind him. 

He turned and his day immediately brightened. “Sarah!” he said. “My key doesn’t work - also I think someone changed the door code.” 

He looked more closely at her. She was wearing a suit - but she never wore a suit. Then he noticed a young couple standing behind her. 

“What’s going on?” 

Sarah looked at him carefully, like she was trying to place him. “I must have shown you a listing before,” she said. “I’m afraid this unit is currently rented out to the tenants behind me.” The young couple smiled at Greg. 

“So if you’ll excuse us,” she said, gently easing him to the side and standing in front of him while the couple unlocked the door - their door! - and the three of them went inside. 

Greg stood in the empty corridor, his head swimming, desperately rubbing his temples. 

*

He parked the car. His head was like cement, his eyes refusing to stay open. He knew he had to find a hotel or something for the night, figure out what was happening, see the doctor in the morning, but he was too tired. Just a few minutes sleep here, and that’ll give me the energy to do what I need to, thought Greg. He checked his phone anyway - Friday night. Fine, no alarm needed to be set. But would a doctor’s be open on a Saturday? Maybe he’d wait until Monday then. A few minutes… 

*

Finally, his alarm went off. Greg snapped awake just in time to see a train obliterate him and his car off of the rails.