#Tvtropes nosleep windows#

The bars filled up the meter, and I smiled. Instead, I lifted my cell phone to the door’s little window, and checked the signal meter.

I could vaguely hear it through the heavy metal door, and I knew it was that unique kind of late-night wind, the kind that was constant, cold, and quiet, save for the rhythmic music it made as it passed through countless unseen tree leaves. I remember shivering, though I wasn’t cold. Nothing moved, save the few sidewalk trees that shifted in the wind. Dim clouds, purple and black from the glow of the city, hung overhead. City-gloom hung over the dark street outside, and the traffic lights at the intersection in the distance blinked yellow. I looked through the heavy door’s small square window, and received quite the shock: it was definitely not lunchtime. I got to the stairwell, and took the stairs up to the building’s front door. I have no idea why I chose to do that, but it was fun giving in to the strange impulse not to break the droning hum of the soda machines, at least for the moment. I closed my door softly, and walked the other direction, taking care not to make a sound. I’m fairly sure nobody knows those machines are even down here, or my cheap landlady just doesn’t care to get them restocked. Two dreary soda machines stood by it I bought a soda from one the first day I moved in, but it had a two year old expiration date. On one end, a large metal door led to the building’s furnace room. I peered down the dingy grey hallway, made dingier by the fact that it was a basement hallway. I chalked it up to having not spoken to anyone but myself for a day or two. A small feeling of apprehension had somehow already lodged itself in me, for some indefinable reason. When I went out, I opened the door to my small apartment slowly.

I did change my shirt, though, because it was lunchtime, and I guessed that I’d run into at least one person I knew. I figured I was just going out for a quick cell phone call. I looked in the mirror before I went out, but I didn’t shave the two-day stubble I’ve grown. As the tingle of fear fades, I’m feeling a little ridiculous for being scared at all. I’d call with my cell phone, but reception’s terrible down here. The last e-mail I got from anybody was a friend saying he’d talk to me when he got back from the store, and that was yesterday. Everyone I normally talk to online while I program has been idle, or they’ve simply not logged on at all. That’s the first thing that crept up on me. Maybe I just haven’t talked to anyone in awhile. I’m not sure when I first started to feel like something was odd. Hours of sitting and staring at a monitor can make anyone feel strange, I know, but I don’t think that’s it. I haven’t been out in a few days because I’ve been working on this programming project so intensively.

#Tvtropes nosleep windows#

The lack of windows down here makes day and night seem to slip by seamlessly. I just had to go and choose the cheapest apartment, the only one in the basement. I’m starting to feel cramped in this small apartment. It’s just… everything blurs together here, and the fog of memory lends a strange cast to things…

I need to get down all the details somewhere objective, somewhere I know that what I write can’t be deleted or… changed… not that that’s happened. It’s not that I don’t trust the computer… I just… need to organize my thoughts. I guess I’ve just noticed some odd things. I’m not sure why I’m writing this down on paper and not on my computer.