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Include a character in your story that is often in an apartment building, but doesn’t actually live there.

Posted in High School on Oct 28, 2022

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✍️ 38 stories

Every Breath You Take

Submitted to Contest #148

Logan heard a faint click as she walked through the big glass door and another as she stepped inside. The noises were small and hard to latch onto, and for a moment, she thought she’d imagined them.  Another click sounded as her perfectly white sneakers squeaked on the black and white tile taking her down the skinny hallway towards the bank of mailboxes.  She ducked her head to rummage through her giant leather shoulder bag and nearly jumped out of her skin when Rodney appeared at her side seemingly out of nowhere.  “Jes...

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Doctor, Heal Thyself

Submitted to Contest #148

"Doctor, heal thyself," I hear the first-year intern mumble to his cohort and the murmur of the newly degreed physicians as they leave my room.I've forgotten my case files, and my hair is windblown and drenched from the rainy walk across the street to the patient pre-op apartment tower. But as Saint Bernadette's leading psychiatrist and a woman nearing her thirtieth year in practice with the remnants of menopause clinging to my body, they don't dare say a word more. A sudden hot flash would burn through my eyes and char their careers with a ...

31 likes 26 comments 26
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The Hummingbird

Submitted to Contest #148

“I’d be an atheist, but then I’d have no one to be angry with,” Horacio lisped. His delicate fingers brought the cigarette closer to his face, then back near mine with a languid, fluid motion that reminded me of fishing lines over Lake Chapala. I’d recently gotten into the habit of swallowing the bait, although I could see the hook perfectly well. “Socialists are always atheists,” I responded. I flicked the ash off the end and wondered if I was bored with him. “I've heard you say it yourself.” Horacio and I began each night dining ...

24 likes 8 comments 8
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Teal-Like Man

Submitted to Contest #148

Teal is an ambiguous colour. Not quite blue, not quite green, but something in between. And it was exactly how Kevin was when I first walked past him at the bridge, eight years after our high school graduation.  The man who was alive, but observing the sky around with lifeless eyes. His skinny body was wrapped in an oversized hooded jacket, shielding him from the wind while he leaned his back on the railing of the bridge. His shoulders curled up, and as my beige coat brushed his arms, our eyes interlocked. “Dark green eyes?” The man...

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Unlocking the Door

Submitted to Contest #148

Gripping the reassuring weight of the heavy silver key, she makes her way through the gate, letting it clang shut behind her, hoping the tenants might hear her approach. She tries to remember the last time she was here, turning the key over and over in her pocket as if that will unlock the memory, but it stays stubbornly shut. A year ago? The inspections used to be annual, they were hardly needed more regularly when the House was brand sparkling new, all fresh paint and glittering windows.Of course, she remembers a time when she’d been summo...

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The Three Bodies Problem

Submitted to Contest #148

For three days the bodies had been floating over the city. Decaying. Watching them from the balcony of the highest home in her tower, Danielle felt lead weights sink in her stomach. Scaffolding was slowly rising towards them. Progress was slow. No one building the improvised wooden tower wanted to be close to the force that held the corpses in place.             “It shouldn’t be long now,” said Prince Consort Carl. “They’re almost there. Then they can get them down and it will all b...

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Time to Let Go

Submitted to Contest #148

“Why do you still go back there?” “Don’t I pay you to tell me that?” “No. You pay me to listen.” The key slides into the lock with a soft clink, metal hands latching, the warm copper brushing against the cold of the body, hot from where it had been pressed in his hand. Jack sighs as he twists it and shuffles inside. He doesn’t lock the door behind him; he’ll be leaving soon. Inside, the wide window panes hold back the heat of a Manhattan summer, the smell of old rainstorms and wet concrete and slick steel all wrapped up i...

15 likes 6 comments 6
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You Can Check Out Anytime You Like...

Submitted to Contest #148

Kathryn looked up at the looming building as she pulled herself from the cab. The tower of an apartment building stood dark against the light gray New York sky.  She turned and reached in for her bag, the driver not even so much as glancing at her in his rear view mirror.  “Thanks,” she said, trying to sound genuine. Truly though, she was glad to be getting out of the creeps' car. When she first hailed the taxi he seemed nice enough, but once she was in and had given her destination, he had glared at her in the mirror until she shi...

15 likes 10 comments 10
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The last song

Submitted to Contest #148

When Mr. Jones knocked my apartment door, disturbing the usual serenity of Saturday morning, I wasn't particularly delighted. He explained himself after apologizing for being discourteous --- the man in his 50s, wrinkles-worn, two ends of unibrow as if horns; tailored suit fits, black eyes sunken like abyssal pits; boney hands shivering, ecchymoses on forearm under sunlight glittering, he has told me what he was going through, and begged for my help. He is dying. The cancer had tormented the man for some months, right after the diagnosis. ...

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What Happened to the Door? Part I of The Tony Chronicles

Submitted to Contest #148

I was exhausted after an excessively long three-day trip, catering to the whims and fancies of Lockheed L-1011 TriStars filled to the gills with passengers flocking to Fort Lauderdale by the millions, it seemed. Everyone seemed to be flying south; it was snowbird season in the Northeast quadrant of the United States. I dragged Dog, the name given to my navy-blue carpet covered carry-on suitcase, up a couple of rickety stairs leading into the kitchen. I rounded the corner to head up to my bedroom coming face to shlong with Tony, my swarthy Gr...

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Uninvited

Submitted to Contest #148

A loud crash echoes through the stairwell I’m currently running up, towards the roof garden that positively blossoms in autumn. I stop, craning my head towards the sound which seems to be coming from Apartment B on the second floor, seeing if anything more follows. I think the Martins live there, with their pet goldfish who they constantly fawn over, and Mr Martin’s mother, who they don’t. I see Mrs Martin Sr often, hobbling towards the rickety old lift with her rickety old legs, using her sturdy oak cane to help her with her uneven gait in ...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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The Handkerchief

Submitted to Contest #148

“We have plenty of time,” Zelda said, reaching across the space betwixt her and her fiancé. She lovingly caressed his forearm in an attempt to assure that his despondency was due to nothing more than the gloomy weather that filled the streets of Paris this rainy day.“We have plenty of time to go all the places and see all the things your heart desires, Jacques. In a month we’ll be married and living together right here in this lovely Parisian apartment. Life is young. We are on the precipice of so many possibilities, so why in heaven’s name ...

13 likes 2 comments 2
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I am Madam

Submitted to Contest #148

They call me the Madam of the place, but personally, I can't stand that title. Madam? I mean what is that?When you hear that title, how would you picture the person in question - physically I mean? I guess you might envision someone wide set, full in the chest, miserable in the mouth, excessive in the jowls and untrusting in the eyes? Perhaps in the second half of their years, with wisps of greying hair highlighted through a taut elaborate low bun?Let’s talk skin - would you think pale, olive or dark? And what about voice - would you ex...

12 likes 1 comment 1
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Apartment Living

Submitted to Contest #148

"What?!" Frank squealed. "What on Earth are you thinking, Richard?" He launched out of his chair, passion driving him to his feet. He pointed across the large outdoor patio table, his face flushed, and continued to shout. Jessica yawned. These body corporate meetings always seemed to be full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. She watched as Richard launched a counterattack, and Frank spluttered his response. The current topic of conversation was the pool. This was normal. They had found broken glass in it again, so - again - it needed ...

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We All Heed Her Piercing Cry

Submitted to Contest #148

(This story talks about death.)It was the 3rd of October, late in the afternoon, and there she was again. That old woman. She walked with a slight limp but looked otherwise strong. She came by the apartment complex once a month. Not always on a particular day of the month. It could be either on the 5th, the 16th, or the 30th. But it was always ever once a month. And she never skipped. Not for the past year that Tyler had been keeping an eye out for her anyway.He observed her through his kitchen window from the third floor. She was ambling al...

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