And now we enter the accommodating kitchen. Yes, ma’am, you’re right, there are no appliances. Your refrigerator will be taken in the riots in five years, your microwave will be break after the first month and you will eventually just let it sit there gathering dust. Eventually you’ll have to get rid of it when the family of mice move in. The stove we had to remove when we discovered that the gas men had installed the gas line incorrectly. Imagine…if someone had even turned on a pilot light, you all would have been incinerated! Oh wait, there’s Ms. Stevens…well, she had lived a long life anyway. What do you expect from the housing authority anyway? Competency? Sorry, that’s a little joke we have amongst ourselves. Dishwasher, ma‘am? You couldn’t possibly afford a dishwasher on your salary. Besides, the water lines don’t work that well. They’ll probably freeze in the winter…cinder block will do that to metal.
And now we enter the livable bedrooms. Well, why don’t we just let the smells of the bedrooms speak for themselves. Oh, sure, there are probably some soiled mattresses on the floor and some spare pieces of wood serving as shelves, but why spoil the unexpected surprises of living on your own? You say you’ll take it? Splendid. We’ll draft the paperwork downstairs. Lets go downstairs.
And now we enter the useful hallway. Trust me, once the maintenance man gets back from rehab the lights will be changed on a regular basis. The dripping, ma’am? Just the ambient noise coming from a burst water pipe seeping through the cheap drywall onto the bare, cold concrete floor. I’ll press the button for the elevator…Huh…Must not be working today. We’ll just use the stairs. I’ll get the door…Huh… Seems a bit jammed. There we go! Always have to remember to jiggle the handle a little. All right, folks just ten flights down. I’ll walk behind you just in case anyone is following us. No, ma’am, crime is not a huge problem here. We haven’t had a murder in over thirty-six hours.
And now the wind enters the broken window frame of the living room and skirts over the debris of the plaster ceiling. The wind winds its way through the open door frames and spaces that once were filled with the voices of adults and children but is now only haunted their memories, their sorrows, and their plight. The few wire hangers in the closet blow back and forth on their stark steel pole. The animals are long gone; they sense trouble and have decided to find safer quarters. The wind blows the faded curtains in the kitchen; the ones she had to buy that Saturday; the ones with that vibrant red floral print that have now faded in the western sun. The vibrant red is now a garish pinkish-white fluttering in and out of apartment 1013. The wrecking ball strikes the crumbling brick exterior of the building sending a tremor down to its very core. The living room window is gone in a second and plaster dust clouds the scene. The dust settles and apartment 1013 is bathed in bright, bright light. For a moment everything is new again; white, bright, and crisp. The wrecking ball strikes again and apartment 1013 is gone. Completely gone.
Soon, a new tower will replace this one and there will be another apartment 1013.
And now we enter the spacious living room. Just notice…
