THE WOMAN WHO KNOCKED EVERY NIGHT

an older woman stood there with cold eyes and a stiff posture, complaining that my music was too loud even though my apartment had been silent. The next night she asked if I had seen a stray cat. Another night she questioned me about footsteps above her ceiling even though I lived below her. Sometimes she asked whether the elevator sounded strange or if I smelled gas in the hallway. No matter what excuse she used, she always came back. And if I ignored her, she would keep knocking until I answered. At first I pitied her, then I became irritated, and eventually I started dreading the sound of those knocks more than anything else in my day.