On a list of phone calls you never want to get, pretty high on the list would be one from the police saying someone may be breaking into your apartment when you are not home. Under normal circumstances that would send waves of emotions: Anger, fear, frustration, helplessness, each grounded in some kind of violation and loss.
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Under normal circumstances.
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But right now, I'm ten days from being completely moved out and am literally ready to give away my bedroom suite and livingroom couch and chair to whoever can haul it because I can't sell it. So my first thought was... Hell, I hope they take the furniture and be done with it. There is nothing else in there!
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Called the neighbor upstairs. Yup, he thinks someone is down there. And he ain't going to go look. Scared. I'm not there, so he called the police. Police called me.
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Hmmph. I strapped on my set of... I mean, I put on my coat and out I went into the cold night, to go up and see that was going on.
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Buy the time I got there the police were "on the scene" as they say. No footprints around, checked the sides of the house.
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Went in and looked around. Nothing.
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No one around. Don't know what the neighbor heard.
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Couch intact.
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Sigh. I guess it's a happy ending.
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