Many thanks to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers.
Start of Something Big
When I was young, viewing the golden lights from nearby apartments, I romanticized the dwellers lives, social, happy, vibrant.
Now, on the sixth floor looking out at the Old Town skyline, isolation stymies me. “Hellos” evaporate as recipients stare at their cells. A smile flutters away.
“Hold the elevator, please,” Mr. 408 says.
I smile. He smiles then stares at his cell. I watch numbers blink white.
Social apartment dwellers, my foot.
Suddenly a picture of an endearing dog appears before me.
“What do you think?” Mr. 408 asks.
“I meant the dog.” His eyes twinkle.