1.17.2012

17 of 365

It began on the adjoining wall, a baseline percussion that summoned the other residents. A tapping came next, dance steps from above. She grabbed a spoon and banged the dishes in her stainless steel sink, falling into a rhythm. The building was speaking and she was a sentence of its discourse. When she had hit her final dish, and the surrounding walls fell quiet, she found her way to her bed and fell asleep.

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