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That night they met at a dark, quiet lounge that served excellent cocktails. Kitty sincerely appologized and did her best to explain what was going on with her that week without coming across as completely crazy. Jonas listened while sipping on a scotch with lime. He didn’t really understand it all but did his best to try and believe her.

The night continued on for them and so did the drinks, enjoying each other’s company. At which point the bar was closing, Jonas invited Kitty back to his place, just a couple of blocks from that lounge. When they got to Jonas’ building, Kitty asked to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Jonas thought it was odd but went along with it.

The stairwell seemed strangely familiar to Kitty though she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. She had been up and down so many stairwells and that point in her life that they all blended together. Stairwells all look quite similar in their stark design, being fully functional with no frills. They all serve their purpose of efficiently getting people down and out of a building, hopefully safely and protected from smoke and fire. For that reason, Kitty was always comforted by the brutalist nature of those spaces.

Jonas’ apartment was a gorgeous, large, open space, minimally furnished with wide windows lending panoramic views of the entire city. The living space was lofted and the second floor loft area occupied the inside of a four-sided clock tower. The face of each clock was glass. The moon shined bright through the east clock face as the minute hand ticked by in front of it.

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