OOM: St. Louis
Donovan was back in St.Louis -- still, no door. Everybody was frantically busy with their own relationships, so Donovan didn't go and ask.
Instead, he got himself an apartment. It was in a big old downtown building that was so old it had a name. It was even so old that style it was built in had a name. It had been run-down and was now regentrified, but not far enough to be sold as condos. It had a proper absentee landlord, a TA, and a burly guy named Frank on the front desk.
Donovan was walking from room to room while Tamar the Dreadful was screeching at him all the way from Baltimore on his cell phone, hoping for a corner within the bowels of the apartment where reception honestly broke off. He stepped into the guest bathroom, and reception was instantly gone, as if cut off.
Instant peace!
Or not.
Instead, he got himself an apartment. It was in a big old downtown building that was so old it had a name. It was even so old that style it was built in had a name. It had been run-down and was now regentrified, but not far enough to be sold as condos. It had a proper absentee landlord, a TA, and a burly guy named Frank on the front desk.
Donovan was walking from room to room while Tamar the Dreadful was screeching at him all the way from Baltimore on his cell phone, hoping for a corner within the bowels of the apartment where reception honestly broke off. He stepped into the guest bathroom, and reception was instantly gone, as if cut off.
Instant peace!
Or not.