You Pretty Things Twenty-six If you crane your head out the window of my apartment and look west, you can catch a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean between the high-rise condos on Neilson Way. That’s the upside to my building. The downside is that when the elevator is out of service, I’m living in a five-story walkup. The apartments have nine-foot ceilings, so the flights are longer than normal, and tilted at a death-defying angle. I get bruises on my tailbone just thinking about it. I mash the call button on the elevator and wait with a growing sense of dread as seconds tick by and I don’t hear the creaky sound of old cables. Finally, I shoulder my purse and a bottle of Hendricks from the liquor store next to the Circle Bar, and trudge upstairs. The phone doesn’t ring while I’m walking upstairs. Nothing from Eva. Nothing from Scout. On my front door, there’s a scrap of paper taped with a piece of black electrical tape.
What do You think about Oh! You Pretty Things (2015)?
