Some time later, I stand up and shuffle over to the door. I slide my feet into my shoes and grab my keys out of the bowl. I can’t stay here any longer, clearly being alone for too long is messing with my head.

  My door creaks as it opens. I step out into the hallway and turn to lock the door behind me. The dull throb at the front of my skull is going to make the long walk seem longer. It doesn’t matter, this is what I need to do.

  I take the elevator down to the lobby and walk outside into a dreary day. The sun is hidden, but the humidity and a blazing heat still hits me like a wall. These are the moments that I wish that I had a car, or any vehicle really. The outside air is unpleasant and smells faintly of moldy food. It’s somehow still better than being in the apartment. 

  I let my mind wander as I hurry down the sidewalk, occasionally glancing down at my phone for directions. This would be my first time going to the Urban Planning Department’s building, but I remember a coworker had told their story of requesting a new home. Their request took a feew months and was a tedious, red tape filled mess, but they had managed to get a smaller apartment away from their abusive partner.

  Obviously redecoration and rearranging by itself wasn’t enough. Even just being closer to the edge of the city would be better. The view of a barren wasteland outside the glass dome wasn’t exactly the luxury I had daydreamed about for hours when I was younger. But it was better than the dull view of the side of the same buildings.

  Ragged, sweaty people brushed past me as I slipped through crowds and reminised about better days.

  One of my favorite shows when my grandfather was still alive was a travel channel, every new season dedicated to exploring a new distant planet. He would make little comments every now and then. He was born several light-years away, at the closest neighboring planet. He had seen his own fair share in his time, and he made it known in his own grumpy, disapproving way. Mostly when talking politics, and while we watched that show.

  “Theyy always stage this kinda stuff, never that dangerous...” he’d mumble with a frown, not looking away for more than a second. I’d stare at him in curious wonder, then back to the TV until he’d make another incredulous grumble or frustrated comment. Every once in a while though, on rare occasions, I’d see him grin joyously and nod along in boyish wonder at the beauty of the view they had managed to capture on screen. Those were the moments I’d jump on, launching into questions about his own adventures as a younger man, and hypothesizing about my own future journey.

  Reality comes rushing back to me, as I look up to see that I’m at the steps of the local government building. Well, it’s a generic office building, but the department I want is on the 17th floor. The front doors slide open for me with a pleasant whirl, and I shuffle in quickly— pausing for a moment to examine a sign directing me to the correct office.

  After a short search and an elevator ride, I find myself in a small, plain looking office. A small sign outside the room labeled ‘Urban Planning’ confirms I'm at the right place. 

  At the far end of the room is a desk, spanning nearly the width of the room. Posters and seemingly random papers are taped to the walls, and even to the closed door in the corner. The room seems to be empty, save for an elderly woman sitting behind the desk reading a novel. With a timid step, I walk over the desk.

  “Excuse me. I was looking to switch apartments. The one I live in now...” I start hesitantly. She glances up from her book contemptuously. She gently rests her book down and swivels around in her seat, shuffles through some papers, pulls one out, and swings back around to face me. 

  “Fill this out. Takes about three months to get a response.” She stares at me for a few seconds, silent with a blank expression. And then it’s back to reading.

  I grab a pen from a nearby cup and walk to the back of the room. They had graciously built a long shelf along the wall meant for filling out forms. 

  I start scribbling in my information.

  Reason for request:

  I hesitate, looking over the question a few times. I hadn’t really processed what I had been hearing and seeing. I have no idea how to even describe it without sounding...

  I write out ‘death of grandparents, smaller space preferred’

  Not a satisfying answer, but what else can I say? Strange noises are keeping me up at night? 

  Also, there must be hundreds of families in this city that need a bigger space. The generational housing laws put a stop to moving even when the family expands. Larger apartments don't often just free up out of nowhere. The department will jump on this opportunity.

  I drop my form off at the front desk, without so much as a a glance from the woman reading. Must be a riveting story.

~~~

  I practically saunter home, a weight gone from my shoulders. The loud honking, people deep in conversation, the rrhythmic clatter of the train, all fades into the background. Even the weird smell in the air is no longer bothering me.

  I smile at Aurelio as I pass by, despite his attention being solely fixed on whatever he has in his hands. I pause out of habit for the building’s front door, walk in, toss my keys into my art project bowl, and kick my shoes off at my... front door. I pause, the feeling that I missed something sitting in the back of my brain, just out of reach.

  Also, it’s suffocatingly hot in here. I can alreeady feel a bead of sweat at the small of my back forming, and sliding down my skin. My face feels nearly damp already, as I scurry over to the thermostat. I hadn’t touched it in years, leaving it to its silent, reliable operation all this time. 

  Surprising that it got that hot while I was out, but it wasn’t the first time we had been without a/c. This building was not as well maintained as it should have been. Not up to code. I should have mentioned that as well when I was filling out my transfer form.

  I adjust the temperature as low as it allowws me to, and shuffle over to my mug so I can fill it with cold water.

  Somehow it feels late, even though there’s still plenty of sun left, and I meander through my apartment for a few minutes while my mind runs in circles. It feels like I was trying to remember something, or I was supposed to do something when I got back...

  I can’t really think in this heat though. Once it cools down, the thoughts that I’m chasing will come to me and I’ll know what to do next.

  Thoughtlessly, I make my way to my bedroom once again. Was I spending too much time sleeping? Time really seems to be slipping away from me. And something is tickling the back of my mind so frustratingly close, yet too far to know if I even wanted to grasp at it.

  I’m laying in bed with my eyes closed before I know it. I struggle to center myself, reigning in my careless thoughts that threaten to break through my calm facade. It is too hot for sleep. I have lost the last of my family. I have lost my job. I am stuck. Why.

  Sweat continues to slowly drip down my face as I toss and turn. As a child I had always needed the security of a a blanket, and that childhood habit is testing my limits now that it's too warm for anything to even touch my skin. I search in vain to find a comfortable position.

  A sudden cool breeze halts my every thought and soothes my damp skin. A sense of true calm washes over me, and I relish every second. It smells like roses. The breeze whispers in my ear, as if speaking to me, lulling me into sleep. The voice repeats words I had heard while falling asleep too many years ago. Such a soothing sound.

~~~

  I wake with a start. The morning light is just beginning to filter through my bedroom window. I relax after a second, taking in my surroundings. Something is a bit different, but itt’s hard to put a finger on it.

  I creak out of bed slowly, grabbing the nearby mug as I go. I flip the broken light switch on to see better as I make my way out of my dimly lit room. As I stumble down the hall, I glance at the couch in the living room, cushions ripped apart at the seams and foam torn out in chunks.

  Damn grand-kids, they never know how hard it is to provide for them constantly...

  My thoughts wander further as I fill my mug with coffee. I can feel a smile break out over my face as the machine hums and the black gold sputters out.

  Must be a Saturday, if this damn thing is working.

  It takes a second to ease myself into a seat at the kitchen table with a quiet grunt, before I take a sip from the mug. Doesn’t taste as good as usual. Huh, my first time not liking coffee. Might have to try a different brand.

  I glance at the clock on the wall and let out a gruff sigh. These few minutes of peace and quiet in the early morning really are such a blessing. But they ccan never last forever. How long has it been since I had just relaxed? Just taken a vacation without the family?

  When I had moved into this apartment, it was to start a new journey with the love of my life. Damn government had to mess it up. I hadn’t voted for that dumb-ass, John Treante. Him and his own would be fine in their ivory tower. Meanwhile, we’re being crowded into little boxes, three generations worth of family. Not sustainable really. Homelessness certainly hadn’t gone away, so it was clearly just another hharebrained scheme with no benefits for the rest of us. 

  With a heavy, prolonged sigh, I lift myself and make my way down the hall again. I knock on the kids’ bedroom door, before turning the handle and peering in.

  I stop dead in my tracks. The bedroom is nearly empty, save for a vaguely familiar desk and computer. My desk and computer. 

  I squint my eyes as I stare into my office. Face to face with the oddity that was bugging me. There is definitely something different. The thought that I had been chasing is now too close for comfort. It has its cold grip around my mind, and I am not sure how to escape iit.

  I close the door in front of me and walk back into my room, flicking the broken light switch off now. I need to sit for a minute with my thoughts. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I hold my head in my hands for a long time.