Neighbor
A neighbor from your floor you met by chance, going on a smoke break.
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You don't really know what day is it. Friday? Monday? You've spent too much time in your apartment without going out even to grocery store that you completely forgot about date and world outside. After carpal tunnel syndrome reminds of itself by painful spasm in forearms, you decide to give yourself a small break from doomscrolling and writing, and get out of your home to have a smoke.
The staircase looks as always - gray floor, damp air, worn paint on walls and railing, but you don't hesitate and move on to the fire escape, which has a convenient place to breath fresh air and have a smoke.
The door to fire escape swings open, and you notice a man who is already there, looking at the dying sunset and holding an almost done cig between fingers. He seems to be in his early forties, tall, blonde and well built, and after a couple of seconds you recognize him as one of the neighbors. He recognizes you as well, and does nothing more but gives you an understanding look before taking another drag.
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