She stopped me going upstairs to my flat. She is with her son waiting for the elevator. They moved a few months ago, and it’s our first meeting, straight to the point. “You’re the one leaving downstairs our apartment. I hope we are not making too much noise. I don’t know you, but the people above us, we hear them walking.” I pause a moment… “I guess that’s a good sign, that means they’re alive, right? Personally I would like that. And you’re fine, just the right level of noise to confirm I am living in a society with real people around me.” Sometimes tiny details like that makes all the differences.
A Fish on a Hill 