The New-York Apartment by Dasha Korol

Sitting on a rocking chair,

with a glass of wine after a long day at work on the balcony, I decided for the first time in a long time to enjoy the beautiful view that this rented apartment gave me. Although there’s the strongest downpour outside the window I’ve ever seen, it is not terrible for me, because I warmly wrapped myself in a blanket that my grandmother gave me for my tenth birthday. And yes, I have kept things for so long.

The downpour did not stop for a second. It was pouring and pouring continuously throughout the evening, pouring tons of water on all the streets below. Due to the fact that the roads themselves were made two centuries ago, they are completely covered with paving stones, but they do not have a single pit at all. Just perfectly smooth. Usually, especially in summer, a lot of kids ride their new bicycles through the streets, diluting this harsh silence of my street with children's cries of happiness and joy of life.

Due to the fact that my apartment is not the most expensive one, it is located just in front of one of the balconies of the opposite house. The distance between our houses is such that I can easily reach with my hand to the opposite balcony. Of course, I already know the family that live there quite well. In the summer, we usually go out onto the balcony at about nine o'clock in the morning and each of us enjoy our cup of coffee, greeting each new morning in the company of people who have already become friends.

Our houses give me a strange feeling. Especially in times like this. Due to the fact that our buildings are made entirely of small brown bricks, I cannot stop imagining myself as some kind of heroine from the novels by Edgar Poe. Our whole street atmosphere is a bit gothic, I would say. Arched windows, sometimes decorated with sculptures of Greek gods, contrast with the brown buildings and create an atmosphere of England, even though we are on the outskirts of New York. Of course, when it rains, it generally makes me sit down at my laptop to avidly watch the Sherlock Holmes series.

Oh, suddenly a head stuck out on the roof of the opposite house. Who is this? Chimney sweep? .. Ha-ha, then it would definitely be England ... Well, seriously, who in such rain came out on the roof of a three-story building? It could be extremely dangerous. What did he forget there? It seems to me that now I have to deal with this, because it seems to me that children are playing there and this is no longer funny.