I awoke this morning after a REALLY peaceful sleep…
to the sounds of someone pressing my door’s buzzer like their life depended on it.
At 6 am in the morning, that’s not highly commendable…especially when it’s my day off!
But, as I said, I’d had a really good night’s sleep. So, irked but not quite angry, just in case there is a really good reason for someone to behave as such, I go to the window to see what the fuss is all about.
Lo and behold, my eyes fall upon 15 or so riot-garbed policemen!
Several signal to me to open the door. I rush to obey but am too late. The door’s automatic timeout blocks me. I rush back to the window.
I motion to them to ring again. They frantically motion to me to open the door.
This cannot be happening, I must be still, asleep, dreaming. Yet, I lean out as far as I dare.
“You have to buzz me again.” I whisper.
They signal to me, again, ordering me to open the door. This is becoming surreal.
I wave one of them to come closer. He slowly gets it then approaches rapidly. I hang even lower. Still, whispering, and wishing I’d never opened my window, I rapidly give instructions to the young officer.
“I cannot open the door unless you buzz me again. My name is…”
They begin to search, they find me…
I’m already at the interphone and spring into action at the first bzzzzz.
I go back to the window, just in case.
I see no one.
As I close my window it hits me: OMG, this is like some scene from a documentary or some latest breaking news scoop. Hmmmm, I wonder–
But there’s no need to pursue my pondering.
A sudden explosion on my landing, and a woman’s surprised protestation that closely follows, tells me where they’ve gone. I move to the center of my apartment, just in case.
Bad move, I should have headed to the bathroom. I’m getting nauseous.