The door to my apartment building is heavy and old. As I turn the key, the stiff tumblers in the lock make torture sounds. Cobwebs fill the hallway stretching before me. I begin the ascension of the creaky stairwell leading to my apartment.
I pass the bolted doorways of other tenants. Whenever I go by, silence overtakes the noisy occupants. I expect this: children stop playing, conversations die, a TV's volume diminishes. But, last night, something strange happened.
One apartment refused to grow still. It was "the new" people! I pressed my ear against the doorway, hearing a blasted confusion of idiocy. I will spare your readers the details...
I rushed upstairs, and returned with my biggest knife. I inserted the blade into the gap between the door and jam, pushing it all the way through to the handle. I raised and lowered the instrument along door's length, in a seductive manner, as if it were hungering for contact.
The voices abruptly ceased. Blessed silence will reign from now on. I tried to suppress a giggle, but failed.
I trust your readers will deem the above enlightening.
c 1997 g.santagada