A few days ago our upstairs neighbors began yelling at each other. It escalated quickly and in less than a minute my husband and I were reaching for our phones, determined to call the police. The only problem was that we realized that we weren’t sure what the number of the apartment above us was. I slipped out, in my socks, and tip toed up the stairs as stealthily as possible. I needn’t have been so careful: there was no way they ever would have heard me over the din they were making. There were shrieks, thuds and then the clear, crystal patter of glass shattering. I paused, my breath catching in the momentary silence that followed.
Then one of them screamed: “Don’t you come near me!” It was a horror movie scream, completely unhinged and wet with fear.
At the top of the stairs I found another neighbor standing, paralyzed, in her doorway, her cell phone loosely in hand. Our eyes met and almost without a word I slipped into her apartment. We discussed our ridiculous worry about seeming intrusive and our fear for our neighbors and then called the cops together.
When I left her apartment one of the neighbors was standing in the hall, tears beading in his dark eyes. He wiped at them, like a stage actor, with a flourish and sniffled, apologizing for the noise. “Are you okay?” I asked, tentatively. “We’re worried about you.”
“I don’t know,” He said meekly, tossing his head back, flicking his hair, “I’m just crazy.” He held my gaze for a second, then dropped it, hanging his head. I gave him a quick once over: no bruises, no visible signs of abuse. He was fully clothed though so what I was looking for might have been hiding under his t-shirt.
From inside his apartment I could hear his partner asking what was going on. His was the deep, gruff voice I was used to hearing in between thumps. The first neighbor replied in a thin, conciliatory tone that reminded me of how a stepford wife might attempt to deal with domestic abuse in front of company. He tried to smile and apologized again for the noise.
The cops came a few minutes later, four of them.
Later that night, at around 4 am the neighbors started fighting again. The only difference was that it sounded as though they were trying to keep it down. Shouting would drop very quickly to a whisper and even the sound of furniture moving seemed muffled. I reached for my phone but, abruptly, everything went quiet and I lay awake for a half hour afterward, unable to go back to sleep.
An invitation to be in the moment
This morning we decided on a spontaneous trip to Baker Beach with our two-year-old son.
Our city by the bay is done with Summer. That summertime fog that we wake up to is no more.
Homeward bound after a month in the USA
One day-One Hour- One Minute- It will happen. It is inevitable. Except it already has.
Top 10 Things To Do In San Francisco
If you live in San Francisco, you know to avoid Eddy and Leavenworth Street... *stab*
Wrote this the day after the attacks in Paris but was reminded of it this morning when I read the news about the bombing in Turkey
In Search of Color