the people next doors

I don’t know how many people live next doors. There seems to be more people than comfortable for an apartment that size. I’ve seen 5 adults and a baby. May be some of them are only visiting, I never hear the baby cry all the time. They put their laundry outside on the podium, funny thing is they like to walk about in their pajamas, it’s kinda ridiculous actually, cos it’s a public place.

Sometimes I run into them in the corridor, but there is never any greeting. Even if we get into the lift together there’s no acknowldegement.

One of the adult sons was leaving at the same time as me this morning. He kept muttering to himself all the say down, such a weird guy. Walked like he’s in a stumbly sort of hurry too. I was waiting for the bus and I got on the next one. Didn’t notice him at the bus stop … turns out he’d walked to the next one along … weird.

He was in work clothes, white shirt, dark pants but … gasp … white socks and black shoes. Argh!