9:23PM.

you were sitting alone in you and Francis’ apartment. it was silent except for the muffled sounds of talking in the unit beside you. Francis was out doing his job, but he ought to be home now. the telephone rang. you heard the muffled, familiar voice of the new doorman. the voice crackled slightly, but still understandable. “this is the front desk. can you confirm Francis Mosses is not home?” you knew you were home alone, so Francis was probably at the front right now.