In twos, or in multitudes

My downstairs neighbour had lived in the neighbourhood for forty years, and in this building for thirty. I asked him how much rent he was paying and he said, "They want me out real bad." Actually, he said "WHAAA? Oh. They want me out real bad." He was very hard of hearing, which suited me just fine because he lived directly below me and I knew he would never complain about how much I move my chairs around at night. I wanted to ask him what the neighbourhood was like before WTC and how it had changed, but didn't bother because he was seriously very deaf and it was hard to have a conversation with him. I used to run into him on the stairs a lot, because it took him a long time to climb that many flights, and whenever I made too much dinner I would wonder if I should bring him some.

Well, he died. At home. The tenant next door to him told me that some of the other neighbours had started to notice a smell, and had called the landlord, so they came one day and banged on the door really loud for a long time, and finally let themselves in and found him.

This picture was taken on the rooftop of my building, when this neighbourhood was still a neighbourhood.