The Geographer's Library

With great sagacitie it doth ascend
gently from Earth to Heaven.
When I saw the caduceus at the bottom of Hannah’s doorframe,
I felt the same little silver tickle of adrenaline at the back of
my throat that I had felt at the door to my apartment last night.
Only now the adrenaline wasn’t backed by excitement but by fear for Hannah.
I banged on her door. Nothing. I opened the mail slot and listened: a
running shower with full-throated singing above it, loud enough to drown
out the sound of my knocking. I heard the rustle of leaves on grass behind
me but paid no attention to it until a dry hand grabbed my shirt collar and
sharp fingernails scraped the back of my neck.
“Well, I guess it’s my new tenant,” said Mrs. DeSouza once I had turned
around and stood up. She was wearing slippers, her housecoat, and a smirky,
eyebrow-arched expression that mixed scorn, satisfaction, and glee. “I heard
Hannah’s door shut this morning earlier than usual. She usually doesn’t leave
until eight-fifteen. I wondered whether someone might have been sneaking
out. And look at what we have here: not only a suitor but a Peeping Tom, too.”
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