The woman next door

The woman next door knocked on the door with a haggard look. Her expression of asking in a low voice is serious. "Sue, didn't you hear anything strange?"

She is very thin and in and out of the building like a shadow with a light walks. Short hair and a small, sensitive, pale face are wrinkled with anxiety.

When I first moved in, she was the first neighbor to ask she would help me. In fact, I don't have much inconvenience. Since I have lived in more inconvenient places, I am grateful for the environment and enjoy living. I don't even ask anyone for help. If I don't know, I can search Google and solve problems by repeatedly making mistakes.

Shortly after moving, she asked if I heard the barking of the dog across the apartment. I don't want to hear it, but it's tolerable. After a while, she asked if I could hear a child banging from upper house. Although there is no noise between floors because of the prewar building, she seems very sensitive to the slightest noise.

She knocks on the door again. "Didn't you hear the strange sound of pulling something?” she asked me. I look at her gaunt face. She looks thinner and more insecure than when I first moved in. I've been alert and listening quietly, but I can't hear at all.

The woman lives in the front house is an opera singer. In the morning, she practices with a high voice. The atmosphere rises when I meet the passionate woman in the elevator. Her sweet voice, praising my fashion in a high tone, rises and falls as if acting on the stage of an opera. A comfortable, warm woman who naturally leads the mood always takes her shoes off front of her door. On rainy days, umbrellas and rain boos are usually scattered outside her door. I feel uncomfortable and irritated when things aren't in place.

One day her singing stopped. And the shoes in front of her house were missing. I was wondering because there was nothing I could see all the time. After a while she appeared with a cane after being hospitalized. The shoes returned to their seats outside the door. The shoes in front of her door now make me feel rather comfortable.

If the woman next door who is too sensitive to hearing doesn't look for me, isn't she lying down with some kind of severe neurosis? I care and listen to the sound next door. Is it my own habit to keep wondering, if people around me stop doing what they do at any moment that has been bothering me?