I heard a little girl crying in the hallway last night. It was around 9:30 PM. It took a few minutes, but then it occurred to me that perhaps no one was with her. I threw on some clothes and went out to check on her. She was from an apartment down the hall and around the corner. She had the door propped open and was crying and sniffling. She was maybe three or four. Her mom and dad were not home. She was sleeping and had woken up. I asked her some questions, but I couldn’t understand some of the words she said. I did understand when she told me her name is Violet and she is three years old. We turned on some lights and I peeked inside. The place was an untidy mess. No one was home. I asked if she wanted to hang out with me. She said yes. I wondered if this had happened before. I brought her over to my apartment and propped open the door so we could see when people walked past. I gave her a cup of water. I knew it would be a long shot, but I asked her if she knew her parents’ phone number. She told me, “three nine.” No dice. She was very interested in L and B’s toys. I let her play. I put on The Princess and the Frog. She knew Tiana. She wanted to play on the piano. I turned down the volume. She started singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” and I toyed around until I learned the song. By then, Violet didn’t care. She was onto more toys. B came out to use the bathroom. She was confused by the three-year-old girl playing with her toys in the living room. I put B back to bed. As people walked past, I’d stop them and ask if they knew the people in apartment 212. No, no, no. I texted the useless manager. Does she have their contact information? No response. Finally, we heard someone coming down the hall. A woman walked past pulling a couple of laundry baskets. “Hey,” I called out. “Is this one yours?” She stopped and called for Violet. I told her Violet was in the hallway crying. The mom didn’t seem too concerned or worried. Maybe she was embarrassed. She said Violet’s dad was sleeping. I knew that wasn’t true, but didn’t harp on it. I said goodnight to Violet. They disappeared around the corner. It didn’t seem like the ending to this bizarre night I expected. I poured a glass of wine and watched two episodes of Fleabag. This morning, B asked if there was a girl in our living room last night, or did she just dream it? It certainly seemed like a dream.
I wrote a few George tweets and got my first ever mention from Giordano’s Pizza. It was about deep dish. They sent an animated gif of a slice of pizza dressed as an elf. My lunch with the producer was rescheduled again. My writing partner was halfway to LA from Newport when he found out. He randomly got off the freeway in Lawndale as I was finishing up a client meeting with a wedding chapel. We discovered we were a few blocks away from each other. We grabbed coffee and we chatted about the usual stuff. I went home and signed the contract with the manager. I had lunch and ran two miles on the treadmill. I picked up some Panda Express for the girls (they love the orange chicken) and outlined a chapter or two of Lucky Day at the bus stop. I checked off a few to-do items yesterday, but I still feel stressed.
