The old woman in 6G pays the mailman to slip her mail into other people’s mailboxes.
Her family is long gone. She doesn’t get any visitors.
Neighbors used to bring up her mail, she’d offer them tea, and they’d sit with her a while.
And suffer her long and boring and sad stories.
Now they just slip her mail under her door. Or throw it out.
She called the super about a gas leak.
“I’m not falling fir it,” he mumbled. “She’ll talk my goddamned ear off.”
After an hour, he smelled smoke.
The fire department couldn’t save the building.