I unlock the door to my studio apartment, the one I abandoned for a few weeks while hiding in the warmth of someone else's life. The key sticks a little in the lock, like even the door is hesitant to open again. When it finally gives and swings inward, the frozen air slaps me straight in the face.
It's sharp. Sterile. As if the walls themselves resent my return. Well damn, not that I want to be here either. But I have to.
I step inside, shivering, and instinctively reach behind the door to flip the heater switch up to its highest level. The radiator groans like an old man reluctantly waking from sleep. I close the door behind me and just … stand there. Listening. Watching.
Nothing has changed. The place is exactly how I left it.
