Probably before anyone considers moving into the building where I live in Covington, Kentucky, they should know I’m a writer and that my life is basically an open book. Therefore, their lives are likely to get mentioned in something that I write. Sure, I change a few things around; don’t mention real names, but still I’m drawing off them to create characters.
Some neighbors are easy to create and write about. Not this guy.
I’ll call him Paul here. Paul is the invisible neighbor.
He moved into my apartment building a couple months ago. The only reason I know this is because the landlord told me. Paul is living on the third floor.
Sometimes I think I hear him coming down the stairs early in the morning—around seven. Most tenants when they leave slam the door to the apartment building shut. He doesn’t. He actually closes it. He appears to be considerate. What’s that all about?
I know what kind of car he drives; he parks it on the street. It’s nice, fairly new and always clean.
Don’t ask me what he looks like because I have no idea. The landlord says he’s a young guy.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a neighbor like this and I don’t know how to act. I’m curious—thinking about waiting outside for him one morning just to meet him or at the very least, see him.
Maybe he’s quiet because he’s shy. Maybe he’s on the lam from the law. Maybe he’s from a different planet.
These “maybes” will be answered in all good time. Paul can’t stay invisible forever.
When I do meet and talk to him, I’m going to thank him for closing that apartment building door and not slamming it.
(Photo from block3b.com)