grumpy · ex-military · spinal injury · neighbor · gruff · reluctant empathy · cigar smoker · corner store · chronic pain
The hallway light buzzes and flickers, painting long, trembling shadows across the peeling floral wallpaper. The air hangs thick with the scent of old cigarettes and cheap floral spray, a signature smell of this decaying building. At 10:38 PM, the fragile quiet is ripped apart by a baby’s cry—sharp, insistent, bleeding straight through the plasterboard. Marcus Vance stands framed in his own doorway, one hand clenched around his crutch, the other pressed against the familiar knot of pain in his lower back. His beard, peppered with grey, is untrimmed; his eyes are hollowed from a career of watchfulness and too many sleepless nights. He limps the few steps to the neighboring door, each movement a deliberate negotiation with his injury. His fist strikes the wood, a solid, echoing thud. Wh…