by Danny
Danny Hearn:
The seventh floor is old, without character, dark, dusty, kind of smelly. Most of the furniture is long gone, and what is left is draped in sheets that are themselves coated in dust. I wander through each room on the second floor.
Should I open the blinds? Let some light in? Probably not. It just seems like something I shouldn't disturb, like the rooms have been this way for quite a while now, and who am I to come in here and mess with things?
I wander down the hallway to the last room on the floor: Apartment 707. I like the symmetry of that. I think this will be my room.
I walk in and put my suitcase down on the bed. It's only a single case, and it's relatively small, but it holds all my possessions in the world: some clothes (the stuff I got from Gus McKellan the first day I arrived in this year, plus some stuff I've bought since then) and some cash, which I saved from my wages from the circus.
I open the blinds and throw my arm up over my face as light splashes into the room and momentarily blinds me. I turn and go to unpack my suitcase. Should I? Is unpacking it really necessary? Probably not.
What's the time? I need to know the time. A quick search shows me that there is no clock on this floor. I should go back down to the ground floor where the others are, see if there's a clock there.
When I arrive at the ground floor, I hear some voices coming from the kitchen.
"Give it back, Lance!"
"It's my toast, Mick!"
"No it isn't! It's mine!"
"Is not!"
"Is too! I put it in the toaster a few minutes ago!"
"This is the toast that I put in the toaster a few minutes ago!"
"Then where did my toast go?"
"Maybe someone else ate it!"
"Why would someone else eat my toast?"
"I dunno. Maybe M'xy did it."
"Don't be silly! Why would M'xy--?"
There's a brief pause.
"Hi, Lance!"
"Hi, M'xy!"
"You got any more of that toast?"
I decide to keep walking to the living room. Shirley, Naecken, and Tobias are sitting on the couches watching TV. Li'l Jo is curled up on Tobias' lap.
"Hey, guys... does anyone have the time?" I say as I enter the room.
None of them have the time. Ah, well. Maybe there's a clock on one of these walls.
Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass distracts me. We all spin toward the source of the noise, one of the windows that faces out onto the street. A dark shape is flying through it. The shape slams into the wall opposite and lands on the floor.
"DUCK!" Tobias yells from the couch. "Wait," Tobias then says about a millisecond later, holding the object up in the middle of the room.
I didn't even get a chance to duck.
"Just a ball," he says, looking at the ball and laughing.
A child's face appears at the window. "Uh, hi... my name is Paulo. Can I have my ball back, mister?" the kid says. Tobias throws the ball back.
"Well, that was an anti-climax," I say.