Margen
The man upstairs moved in a year ago and, ever since, I haven’t heard a single footstep. But every night, at three, someone drags a chair right above my bed.
Yesterday I went up to ask. The door was still sealed with police tape: the previous tenant had died inside, and since then no one had rented it again.
That night, at three, I heard the chair again. And, for the first time, I also heard someone sit down.