Happy Monday everyone! I hope you had a fabulous weekend. I had a glorious one celebrating with family and friends. But now it is back to the daily routine. So let’s kick it off with the first wroiting prompt of the week. Timers at the ready…and we’re off.
Huh, that was more violent than I expected…
Monday, April 17th: How long have you lived here?
“How long have you lived here,” he asked. Carly frowned and took a step back, easing the door fractionally closed. She didn’t like the look of the strange man. She was expecting pizza and opened the door without looking. He didn’t have pizza and was asking questions.
“A while,” she said.
“A while,” he repeated. “Do you know someone named Cynthia?” he asked.
Carly felt a little relieved. He was looking for someone else. It was a mistake that he was here.
“No,” she said. “You might want to ask the super. He’s on the first floor.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and the scent of peperoni and hot melty cheese wafted up the stairwell. The pizza guy came up and the strange man stepped away. She signed for her pizza and closed the door in relief. Even though the strange man appeared to be looking for someone else, Carly put the deadbolt and chain on the door. Usually she only threw all the locks when she was sleeping, but tonight, it seemed like the thing to do.
She took her pizza to the table and set it down. She debated eating it out of the box but decided against it. She went to the cabinet and got a plate. ‘This way I won’t take the entire pizza in front of the television and binge eat while I binge watch.’
It had been a long week, hence giving into the lure of a peperoni pizza instead of the quinoa salad she had planned for the night. She planned to sit and spend a few hours blissfully letting the world go. She took her plate back to the living room and set it on the coffee table. She looked back to the door. Quietly she padded back to the door and looked through the peephole.
The man was still there. Carly backed away from the door. She picked up her cell phone and called down to the building manager. Hank picked up on the third ring.
“Office,” he grunted. There was a series of surprising leaks this week and Carly knew he was as ready for this week to end as she was.
“I’m sorry to call but there is this guy in the hallway. He knocked on my door looking for Cynthia and now he is just standing in the hallway.”
“Okay,” Hank said. “I’ll look into it.”
“Thanks,” Carly said. She knew that while Hank often grumbled about building maintenance he took the security of the residence seriously. It was one of the things that made her feel safe living in the building. She hung up but still held onto her phone. Carly moved to the peephole and saw that the man was knocking on the door a short way down the hall. He appeared to be working through the other apartments checking with anyone who answered the door to see if Cynthia was there.
Hank came up the stairs as her neighbor, a man named Dennis told the stranger that there was no Cynthia living there. Dennis was less polite about it than she was and irritably told the man to get lost.
The stranger pulled out a gun and aimed it at Dennis. Carly stumbled back from the door, her fingers dialing 911 as fast as they could. Shots sounded as the call went through.
Ten til Midnight 