Some Words

K and I are moving out of our apartment. This has triggered the landlord to get to work fixing a few things up. She’s been good about the place, but now that we’re heading out, she’s got her eye on a few things, like improving the basement storage and such. So I hear her down stairs with some guy assembling shelves and it’s not a huge surprise.

What comes as a huge surprise, is that after a great deal of clanking and talking, in which I overhear the mention of shelves. Things sound like she’s finishing up, and the melancholy sound of a music box starts to quietly but insistently permeate the house. Two minutes ago it was all pipes and metal and wood, and now it’s the soundtrack to a childhood memory for some wrist slitter of a movie.