I have been lurking on the subreddit Writing Prompts a fair bit lately, anticipating the best moment to strike. The point of the subreddit is for one person to submit a prompt for other users to create a story (min. 100 words) or a poem based on the prompt. My observations have shown the community to be a genuinely encouraging and enjoyable place to fan one’s creative flame. Most of the prompts seem fantasy based which isn’t too far in my comfort zone for a first shot. Then I found a prompt I absolutely loved. I present to you - The Good Neighbor.
The prompt was:
Moving to a new apartment I made great friends with the man living in the flat above me. When the landlord came by, I brought him up, but she gave me a response that made me shudder in fear. "The floor above has been empty for at least twenty years. What are you talking about?"
The door closes shut behind my landlord. The conversation we just ended left me in a shudder.
Last night after moving into apartment 2A at 133 Rowell Lane, I ran into Albert. A man of average height and build, he had a mane of dark grey hair. I could tell he was nearing retirement age. I caught him amidst the task of affixing a new door onto the entry to his apartment. I introduce myself and he invites me in for tea and cake. A home is only as good as the neighbors around it, my mother always said. Albert and I get talking. He’s a widower. His daughter is around my age and lives in the city - she attends the university and uses the campus housing.
Albert and I finished talking when I realized three hours had passed. I was enthralled by his stories. I felt like I had so much to gain from our discussion. Whenever people call themselves old, I correct them and say “experienced”. There’s an element of truth there. As a boy in his early 20’s, I love talking to people who have experienced life and no one was happier to pass on their experiences and knowledge than Albert.
Today, I have just finished talking to my landlord who told me that the apartment above me - Albert’s apartment 3A - has been empty for 20 years. I slowly glide up the stairs. Did I imagine the whole thing? Did I dream it? I have to know.
I knock on the door labeled 3A. Albert opens the door. I ask why the landlord said that this floor had been empty for 20 years. “Yes that is correct,” said Albert, “that is exactly what she believes, and I would like to keep it that way if that’s alright.”
He invited me in - much like the night prior - with the intention to explain everything.