apt 9: DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS, DIRTY LITTLE LIES

Mike finally left. I wonder if he enjoyed hearing about my dream. He's my neighbor from downstairs. Now it's your turn to talk with me. I'd love having you over.

Do you have dirty little secrets? Do you ever tell lies? If so, why don't you tell me what they are. I have a lot of secrets, and their all dirty. Some are scary, and some just horrible. I've told a lot of lies, after all, I'm a liar. Sometimes I have to be.

Where do you live? I live in New Orleans, in an old 1930's brick apartment building in the French Quarters. It has a beautiful court yard where I sometimes go out and sit. I like living in my apartment building. No one bothers you there. I'm in apartment 9 nine, but I'm sure you know that by now.

What do you do?

Would you like to know what I do? I do a lot of things. A lot goes on in apartment 9 nine, but do you know what it is?

There's times you can walk into my apartment and catch me sitting in the dark. Sometimes I just sit there, thinking of the things I do. And then I think of doing what I do even better. What lie will I tell my next visitor, what secret will he tell me? Will I hold it against him? Will it be safe with me? I'm good at keeping secrets. Secrets are a part of my life. I live in one big secret. But that's ok, I'm used to it.

One time a visitor told me he killed his wife. I thought he was kidding to get some extra attention, but he went into such graphic detail's, that I couldn't help but believe him. Was I nervous? A little. Did I turn him in? Hell no! I told you, I'm good at keeping secrets.

Another visitor told me that he didn't have a penis. Of course I had to see this for myself, and guess what? You give up? Well it was true, he didn't! Nasty sight!

Someone once told me they had robbed a bank and got away with it. But it got botched up, ending with the death of a security guard. He told me he shot him dead.

A man told me that his ill wife needed her medication while going into some kind of epileptic censurer, and purposely didn't give her the pills that could have saved her. As he watched her struggling to reach for her pills, he stood there, not doing a thing to help. He said she looked at him in amazement, knowing he wasn't coming to her aide. He watched her die right in front of him. He inherited everything she had.

This is my apartment before I moved in. The doors were painted a soft pink color. I like pink, so for the most part, I kept it the same way. This is one of the rooms where I hear a lot of secrets my visitors tell me.