OTHER PEOPLE DO NOT KNOW

by AKAB

You get in your car like every morning. And like every morning you hear that noise.
RATATATATATA
Like a sheet of paper in a bike spokes.
RATATATATATA
For months. You have tried to take it to a mechanic. He has kept it for two weeks. Disassembled and reassembled. Nothing. He says he has found nothing. It has never made a noise. It is perfect. But, as soon as you got it back, it started again.
RATATATATATA
You go back home after work with that noise in your ears.
RATATATATATA
You struggle to get into your house. The door doesn’t open at once. It seems the key doesn’t work. As you try to calm down the lift door opens and your neighbour comes out. He sees you are in trouble. He helps you. He’s got the key to your door. It works perfectly fine. You thank him, you get into your house and start cleaning the black stone floors. You clean them every day. Twice a day. On Sundays you do it with a toothbrush. You clean them twice. But the floor is never clean. Never really black. You do not like to let people into your house. You bought a sofa 7 years ago and it still looks brand new.  The times you used it can be counted on the fingers of a hand. You call for a kebab so you won’t mess up the kitchen. You clean it all the same while you are waiting for your meal. You are most careful to wipe all the droplets. Each time you use the water tap, every drop must be wiped out. The intercom rings. You answer with new coordinates: “Now Stairway D intercom 3”. The intercom rings again. “Fourth floor”. You prepare the exact amount of money and wait for him at the door. In the meantime you hope this time he has remembered to put plenty of yogurt sauce in the kebab. As the lift door opens you look at the floor in your house. Full of invisible white footprints.
RATATATATATA