Saintly Sounds

In an effort to connect better to my neighbors, I have decided to knock on all of their doors at once.  This will surely lead to the opening of doors en masse, followed by curious glances around the buildings hallways, extended conversations about the miracle of St. Door Knocker, and a new beginning in the chapter of world peace.  No Thursday could be greater, especially today, which is Wednesday.  What delight will shine in the eyes of my neighbors as their lives are forever changed by a simple rapping upon their doors.  A percussive question drawing them out to be answered by the unbolting of locks and the glee of dozens.  Thrice a week I could do this to embolden the spirit of unity among we neighbors, becoming not several tenants, but rather one building.  We happy few.

As I imagine the hugs and lavish gifts my neighbors will force upon my person, my ears are drawn to the dissonant aria of the broken fire door just outside of my apartment.   I stand in the hallway looking about, hoping to find my future friends doing the same.  This could be the precursor to my miraculous knocks!  We could all be out there looking together.  Oh neighbors!  Let us move as one to alleviate this problem.  Let us silence the beast signaling no fire save the rage inside my head.  But if not for the terrible noise and me, the hallway remains empty.  We disgusted two.

Not wanting to be dissuaded from my mission, I will still attempt the wondrous knock of many doors.  They will see - they must!- that across twelve hallways on five floors, we are inextricably linked not only by our leases but by the physical laws of time and space.  We occupants occupy our places at exactly this moment.  We are one all in this together.  We - for the door knocking love of St. Jiminy Cracking Bottom!  Will someone stop that noise?!  Can no one hear it?  3C.  Why have you forsaken me?  4G.  Has it come to this?  1B.  You want adequate heat, but I want to sleep in silence.  Anyone at all?

No door will be knocked today.  Or tonight.  Or ever again.  Goodbye communion of tenancy.  Goodbye faceless neighbors who smell of fried dough.  Goodbye best friends who will never knows me.  Goodbye.

Someone passes in the hallway.  I look the other way and pretend the footsteps are not of a neighbor, but the thumping beat of an invisible heart.  The heart of St. Door Knocker.