"You will be good tenant. Last tenant a big mess. Leave me twenty bags of trash!" Susan Chang opened the door to the apartment, her heavy, gaudy keychain clattering against the door the same way her voice seemed to. She looked Alyson up and down again. Alyson wasn't sure whether that was meant to be appreciating how much better she would be than the last tenant, or whether it had an implied "Or else" attached. The door swung open with a creak, and they stepped inside a tiny kitchen. The stove and sink looked as if they'd stood there for fifty years. They were startlingly white against the yellowed walls and fading and torn blue and white linoleum. They showed signs of obvious scrubbing, as if ten extra minutes spent on the stove would make up for the obvious neglect that the rest of the kitchen endured. Susan pushed past Alyson, who was still surveying the room from the doorway, past the light switch by the door and with a surprisingly deft leap, pulled the chain on the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Harsh light flooded the room, replacing the twilight that came in through the open door and the tiny window above the sink. She bustled out of the kitchen and Alyson looked after her. She called "This is bedroom. Small and warm." "You moving in Monday." Alyson got the impression that Susan Chang didn't ask questions. "And giving two months rent, and deposit?" Despite the questioning tone, she was obviously not asking. Alyson said "Yes." "Rent is five hundred dollars." Alyson frowned. "You said four hundred on the phone. We talked last week." Susan Chang was silent and scowled at her for a moment. "Four hundred. If you are late, we talk again." Alyson nodded. "Fine." "Okay. I see you monday." Alyson stepped out, feeling overwhelmed, tired and hungry. Susan Chang locked the door behind her and pushed past her down the stairs. "Monday. I hold it until monday." "Yes, Ms. Chang. I'll see you on Monday." Alyson stood on the steps for a moment longer, and peered into what was about to become her kitchen. She turned and walked down and back to the bus stop. She sat in the cold bus shelter and pulled her jacket tight. The bus pulled around the corner. The pink light of the lamps over the road made seeing the number hard, but she thought she could make out the 78 on the sign on its face. She stepped into the bus, and smiled at the hiss of the step lowering. She liked the mechanical sound of it. It seemed to make sense. She sat in the front left seat, and counted streets as they passed. Thirty-five. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Fifty-five. Fifty-six. Fifty-seven. One hundred three, four, five. She signalled the bus and it pulled over at a deserted stop among a block of flat, gray high-rise buildings. She could see the full moon just over the top of one of the forboding buildings. She quickly double-checked that she knew which way the bay was, then waved to the driver. He winked at her, and she smiled back. She turned away from the bay and stepped across the deserted street and looked up and tried to find building E. A wave of loneliness swept over her as she realized she was alone on the street. She walked up to the huge building and fumbled through her jacket pocket for the key her mother's friend had left her. She walked in and smelled the smell of a disused lobby. She found the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Inside the elevator was a dank smell, like it had seen years of cold and damp and not much comfort. The ride to the tenth floor was long, and the elevator made squeaking noises in the shaft that weren't comforting. She pulled her jacket tighter, even though the cold she was feeling was more imagined than actual. The doors opened onto a floor that looked much like the first, with a long hallway stretching to the back wall, and slit windows there. For a second, she thought she saw the full, heavy moon through one of them, but the window was so small she wasn't sure. She searched for room 1012, and fumbled for the same key. The key stuck for a moment and she felt panic starting, wondering if she had the wrong room. A second later, the door swung open and she smelled the familiar smell of her mother's friend, essentially her aunt. They'd spent so much time together until her mother's friend had moved away, moved to the city she was now trying to make a start in. She wished she'd been home, not travelling the whole month. At least she could stay here and not deplete her limited funds in the hostel downtown. She looked in the refrigerator, and found only a jar of peanut butter. She'd forgotten that she'd have to bring her own food tonight. She sighed and grabbed a spoon, and ate a few sticky bites before she lost her appetite. She dragged her backpack into the bedroom with her and pulled back the sheets. She still reveled in the familiar smell in the cold and alien city. She thought about turning the heat up a little, but she figured that she might as well save the cost and just go to bed anyway. She fell into the bed, exhausted. She was asleep in moments, still dressed.