I’d finally made up my mind to reserve my new apartment. I was already living there, in what seemed like a fairly upscale gated community of sorts, but the whole complex was being rebuilt. I walked, from who knows where, along the far end past huge piles of what looked like fresh soil; what was to be the foundation of our homes; as construction workers paved it down for other units.

It was daytime, probably in the afternoon, as I made my way to what I assume was the leasing office. There was a sense of urgency; I walked briskly; because I didn’t want someone to reserve my new unit before I had a chance. That would mean that once my lease was up, I’d have to find a whole new place to live instead of being able to simply walk my stuff over to the new apartment.

They were building new units, but it seemed we were somehow able to stay in the old ones until ours were complete. I contemplated asking a worker how long a unit takes to built. “I know it depends,” I would’ve phrased it as some units were bigger and more extravagant (expensive) than others, “but about how long does the average unit take to complete?” I just wanted a rough estimate.

I never asked though. The workers looked busy and I wanted to reserve my new unit as soon as possible. Still, after walking along what seemed like the west and then south side of the complex toward my current (old) unit; the new one was going to be built just a short walk away; I decided to stop there. I had to pass it anyway on my way to the leasing office from wherever I was walking.

I stayed in “407”. At least that’s what it said on my door. I was inside at this point, in the shared kitchen area. There were other people there; I remember a blondish-haired girl; walking around, probably cooking and stuff. From the outside, the units seemed independent like normal apartments. On the inside, it was more like a college-style dorm with several private rooms in each unit.

My room was on the highest; it looked like the third; floor beside two other rooms. There was a single room underneath and likely more on the first floor apart from the kitchen. I would’ve hated such living conditions in real life because even if we had private kitchenettes and bathrooms in our rooms, you had to walk thru the unit, past other people if they were there, to enter and exit.

Perhaps the excitement of reserving a new unit meant I’d have a lot more privacy if not the whole place to myself. That’s the only thing that would’ve made sense. Having to walk past and inevitably converse with people as I entered and exited my room would’ve been a nightmare and surely not all my neighbors could’ve been attractive blondish-haired girls I’d be looking to have sex with.

2025 November 22