Walking down the narrow hall, I saw moving boxes stacked outside another tenant’s open door.
“Need some help?” I asked, picking one up.
“Oh, thanks,” a woman said.
I nodded toward the half-empty apartment, then the stairs. “Are you coming or going?”
She hesitated. Massaged her hands. “I’m not sure.”
Alex R. Roman’s writing has also appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine. He doesn’t use social media.
