Red Mutter

Third floor resident Avi N. walks into elevator, just as I step out. Outside the building, another neighbor waves hello from across the street, while walking her baby up and down the block. She is an attractive young woman who’s name I still don’t know despite her moving in over two years ago.

At the station, the train arrives just as I walk down the stairs onto the platform. Despite the crowd, it’s easy to notice a young redheaded boy muttering all too loudly to himself. He is complaining about the sticky floor. A few middle seats are left but I choose to stand instead, leaning against the door and settling in for the ride.