"We stopped for coffee in the Redwood forest;
Giant dripping leaves,
Spoons of powdered cream.
I wanted to kiss you, but wasn’t sure how."
There’s a
note waiting for me in the hallway. Must be from my new neighbours welcoming me
to the building. Yes, it’s from the girl next door. But she seems to have
skipped straight over the welcoming part and launched straight in to ‘Please don’t
play any music between 11pm and 8am’. That’s friendly. Especially as I haven’t
even played a single song yet. Guess she must have noticed that the dozen crates
I moved in yesterday were all labelled ‘Records’.
She needn’t
have worried. My tinnitus means I can never play anything loud anyway. And over
the next couple of years, I often thought I’m the one who should be writing
letters as she seemed to be continually throwing Proclaimers-themed parties.
Fourteen
years later, she’s moved on. And I’m still here. Nesting. Moving again seems
too much of an ordeal. Far easier to just buy every flat on this floor and
knock through. That’s the plan. At least that was the plan, until my friend
pointed out that when I’m older I’ll be stuck three floors up with no lift. Hmm.
