The Tenant

Another dispute is heard from the gritty stairwell of ‘Fydor’s Apartments and Housing’. Flickering wall fixtures dot every door; the only light during November’s grim evenings. Up the metal stairs and onto the second floor, shuffling feet and a trotting cane resonate throughout the corridor. Matching snide for snide, the landlady and her oldest tenant bicker once again over rental payments. Desperate for an extension; the elderly woman stumps over her cane, continuing to make her case.

After dismissing the tenant, Krishna walks to her own apartment on the third floor. Smug with the weight of cash in her grip; she enters the threshold. Despite the numerous complaints of her overpriced rent and poor conditions in which she maintains the dinghy building, she answers only to the building’s owner; Fydor himself. So, with her priorities elsewhere; a caking leather couch faces a yellowed steam radiator and a neglected countertop collects dust. Sighing, she locks the door and takes a few steps to reach the living room. She tucks the money into an envelope and drops it on her coffee table. With a strain she pulls the couch out into a bed, one side being much more worn than the other. Suppressing the desire for comfort and wanting to be held; Krishna pulls the blanket over her as the radiator's heat warms her toes. Unbothering to get changed, she lets the moonlight lull her to sleep. It’s been made clear to Krishna that a slip-up could end with her on the streets. Every month his knuckles knock eerily calm on her door and after collecting what he’s owed, the owner of the building leaves.

Having gotten only an hour's rest, Krishna wakes. The room is inevitably frigid as the moon continues its tract across the sky. Groaning at a seemingly wasted effort to sleep, she decides to get some air. Rubbing her sleepy and wrinkled face, she lifts herself off the creaky mattress. With a sack of her dirty laundry at hand, she trudges out. Her shoes resounding metronomic clacks on the cold hallway tiles. 

‘Praskovya’s Laundromat’ stands across the street; its neon sign winking and trash bins vandalised. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she trudges along. Commercial sliding doors open with the ding of a bell as she approaches. A useless ding, on account of the owner never being around to attend to anyone. Late-night washers scatter under the blue tinted lights as Krishna brings her bag to a unit. Unloading its contents, she reminisces on her childhood. Walking around busy laundromats as mom did their laundry. Discreetly stealing change out of peoples machines or swiping them off of tables and units; hoping to help out her struggling family. Despite the sad implication, she chuckles at the thought. Realising that her little laundry heists were as good as futile. Krishna starts up the washer as sliding doors clack open and close with the city’s insomniacs. 

A trace of red sweeps through her peripheral vision amidst the blue flickering fluorescents. Leaning against the table, she steals a glance at the redhead who chose the second unit from Krishna’s left. Auburn locks hide the woman's face as she piles clothes into the washer. Everything around them seemingly fades as the landlady is met with a set of dark eyes. Offering a polite smile, the woman continues her domestic task; whilst tucking strands of rogue hair behind her ear. Krishna feels a slight surge of energy at the sight. Keeping her wits about her; she admires the woman out of the corner of her eye. Daring a quick glance down at her figure, she’s met with an endearingly tall and lanky frame. Her ogling was interrupted by a soft chuckle, prompting Krishna’s gaze to face the amused redhead in question.

“You’re not as discreet as you think you’re being,” her voice was feminine and alto. Distracted by her smirk, Krishna takes a beat to join the interaction. “Oh,” Krishna involuntarily smiles and crosses her arms, “Here I thought I’d just seem amused by the spin cycle like a mouth breather.” They chuckle and Krishna angles her body to face the redhead a bit more: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She didn’t sound convincing, like she spoke with an undertone of annoyance at having been caught. Nonetheless, she is met with a nod and soft expression. “That’s alright.” The muffled rumbling of tussling clothes is heard, as late night washers filter in and out. Pausing their exchange, the two watch each other earnestly. Krishna struggles to keep her rising mirth at bay: “The laundromat is cosy when business is slow, right?” The red head nods, “yes that’s true, but I don’t normally go out this late. I’m more of a homebody.” Her admittance is paired with a soft blush. Whether it came from embarrassment or bashfulness is unclear, but Krishna hopes it’s the latter. “What’s your name? If you don’t mind my asking,” A hesitance. “-Lilith, but Lily is fine,” she shrugs as though her name was disappointing. To which Krishna replies: “Actually, I prefer Lilith.” 

After sharing pleasantries, their conversation ranges from mundane to slightly personal quips. It’s revealed that Lilith spends a great deal of energy caring for her mother. Distracted by the acquaintance, she hadn’t realised that the clothes in Lilith's hamper was clearly that of an older woman’s. She let her new friend talk about herself, wanting to refrain from giving too many personal details. When asked about work, Krishna avoids mentioning ‘Fydor’s Apartments and Housing,’ claiming to be the Landlady of a building down the block from the laundromat. Follow up curiosities by Lilith were met with dismissive and vague responses. Leaning against the table and supervising their machines, Lilith mentions: “I never know what to do as I wait.” Krishna glances at her, “I don’t like the thought of leaving the clothes unattended, but I get really bored you know.” She chuckles, having spoken with subtle invitation. “Well,” Krishna looks out into the night beyond the windows; a pub stands to the right of her building, “We could get a drink..?” She asked this with irritation, as though upset with Lilith for giving her the idea. Having assumed the annoyance was directed at the boredom and not herself, Lilith agrees.

-

Low ceilings lined with wooden beams cage in the rising smoke and merriment from pub patrons. Our two women break conversation to sip their beers. The alcohol helps balm Krishna’s excitement and nerves. She looks around at the groups and couples drinking, realising she hasn’t been out in a very long time. Krishna follows her train of thought and the feeling of profound loneliness comes with it. Lilith picks up on her saddened expression and nudges her: “Hey, you alright?” The contact takes Krishna by surprise as she glances at her companion, remembering that her luck is shifting. Regardless, an air of pessimism highlights her expression as she nods. “Well that’s not convincing,” the redhead chuckles and takes a sip, glancing back at the laundromat through the pub window. Krishna rests her hand against Lilith’s on the table. Stopping mid drink she looks down at Krishna’s bony hands. Despite being similar ages, the landlady definitely seems timeworn with hardship in contrast to the sprightly femme across from her.

-

Back at the laundromat, the two unload their laundry into dryers. Stealing content glances from one another, the mood is more euphoric from drink and conversation. Remaining laundry doers leave for the night, providing a comfortable silence to hang between them. 

“Heading out,” Krishna admits,“I’m glad we met.” Lilith’s response is a slight tug on the wrist. Facing the redhead with curiosity; Krishna hesitantly raises herself up. Just as the landlady had anticipated, Lilith reaches down for a tenderhearted kiss. The awareness that they had only met a few hours ago is not lost on them, but neither one cares. Their lips part as fingertips meet and Lilith asks softly; “Can we see each other again?”

The door shuts and Krishna exhales with contentment. As she goes to put away her clean laundry, she glances at her bed. A woman’s body providing another source of heat besides the dinghy radiator manifests in the form of Lilith. She feels a little less alone at the possibility. Throughout the course of the week, the two spend increasingly more time together. Krishna still has her nasty moments with tenants, but saw to it that Lilith would be kept away from the building. This evening, smiling on her way to her car; Krishna pays no mind to the old tenant she bumps into. ‘You’ll get what’s coming to you,’ the building’s resident cane-user mutters after regaining thrown-off balance. The landlady drives to Lilith’s apartment.

On Lilith’s couch, the two sit glued to each other as they passively watch the storm outside her window. “Shoot you know what,” she sits up, prompting Krishna to follow suit. “I was supposed to bring my mother her prescription and I forgot,” she moves swiftly. “Knowing her, she’s going to drive through the rain instead of calling me.” While trying to mask her slight frustration, the landlady replies: “What’s wrong with her driving over to pick it up?” The redhead grabs the pharmacy bag off the kitchen countertop. “The rain makes her knee throb and I don’t want her driving through the storm.” Not having anyone to care for but herself, Krishna’s ignorance reveals itself in her annoyed expression. Lilith sighs and faces her: “You don’t have to come, I’ll be back quickly.” Realizing her transparency the landlady replies: “No I’ll go,” she winks, “-it’s probably my fault you forgot to in the first place.” Not denying it, Lilith rolls her eyes in amusement.

City lights dip in and out through the car window as Lilith drives them to her mother’s. Generic radio music plays and Krishna mindlessly watches the passing street lamps. As they pull into a parking lot, it quickly occurs to Krishna that she recognises a few cars. She looks around tentatively, but the growing pit in her stomach is confirmation enough. Unknowing to her partner’s realisation, Lilith pulls the key out of ignition and steps out.

They look up at ‘Fydor’s Apartments and Housing’ as the first snowfall arrives. Lilith takes mild pleasure in the large snowflakes, which seemingly romanticise the building’s uninviting exterior. She hands her mother’s pharmacy bag over to Krishna; who in her head is laughing at the irony of this misleading showcase. Her brief amusement wears off quickly as they walk into the familiar building. Anxiety humming in her ears; she debates being honest with her or not. “Don’t be nervous, she’s only harsh with people she’s met,” A half-joke. “-If anything, I should be worried.” Walking upstairs, Krishna can vaguely make out the redhead complaining about her mom residing here. Anxiety was muffling everything around her, so she gave periodic nods in response. After what seemed to take hours, they stand under a flickering bulb as the redhead knocks, its sound echoing throughout the hall. The sconce light finally gives out. A trotting cane is heard on the opposite side of the door, prompting her face to pale. Lilith offers her a wink and reassuring squeeze as the door opens. 

An elderly woman apprehensively pokes her head out from behind the door. Her and Krishna lock eyes immediately; and after discerning who her daughters’ companion was, the tenant offers her a shrewd glare. Taken aback at her reaction, Lilith glances at her partner. Letting the woman analyse her; Krishna stays dreadfully silent. The mother curls her thinned lips into a knowing smirk and looks pointedly at her daughter; having a seemingly silent conversation in the way relatives do. Her loyalty to her mother unwavering, Lilith steps away from the landlady as she takes her in with fresh eyes. “I see you’ve met my rat of a landlady” with a pause the elderly adds smugly, “ -you know, the one who treats me like dirt.” Having said this with obvious satisfaction; she proceeds to snatch the pharmacy bag from Krishna. “I remember mom,” the redhead mutters.

The temperature dropped, with it the days shortened. Autumn had come swiftly but unforgivingly. Cold air from outside runs up the stairs, chasing a bitterly-lonely Krishna behind her apartment door. Later in the week, Lilith visits her mother with a sack of clean laundry. Metal steps reverberate under her shoes as she makes her way up the stairwell, but stops short at her mother’s door. It’s only once she ventures beneath the newly changed light bulb that she discovers the plastered eviction notice.