Murderers!!! I am Not Simone Choule!!!!

Years ago, when I lived in my run-down Kansas City apartment, I had these two cats, Fen & Spooky. When they wanted out, I had to not only open my apartment door, but I had to go down a flight of stairs & open another door. Fen, as cats are prone to do, would remain happily indoors all day until I was happily asleep at which point he would howl and howl and knock small things off of shelves until I let him out. So it was, in the dead of the night, that I was groggily heading back up my stairs after letting him out when I shot a glance out my stairwell window. I happened to look out this window at the precise moment some woman was making her way past the stairway window of the apartment building across the street from me. Our eyes met . . . . mine sleepily, hers wide with horror as her jaw dropped, a cup fell out of her hand and she dashed down the hall, knocking on doors in what appeared to be an absolute panic. Now, all of the sudden, I’m feeling like a criminal for looking out my own window. Did she think I was spying? Were my pants off? Am I covered in blood? Noooo, so I skulk back inside my apartment . . . but I REALLY want to see what, if anything, is going on over there! . . . . is she still knocking on doors? Are the police being called? WTF? But I certainly don’t want to be all obvious about it so I make sure all my lights are back out. I very sneakily peer through my blinds only to see a crowd of people, in their night clothes, has now gathered before that stairway window, peering eagerly towards my apartment building and the second my fingers began to part those blinds, their heads all collectively turned from my stairwell to me as they all began to point and excitedly mouth “THERE!!!!”. Flashback of the scream in the end of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. At this point, I am hoping and praying I shut & locked my downstairs door because clearly, I can’t go out of my apartment ever again!

If you didn’t get the Simone Choule reference, then watch Roman Polanski’s The Tenant (1976). Also, you need to appreciate the amazing atmosphere of it’s Philippe Sarde soundtrack. Do this, please.