I've been inspired by how very transitional people in apartment complexes are for this next novel idea. The fact that in the little over two years I've lived here my balcony neighbors, as I like to call them (the neighbors who live directly across from me on the second floor on this side of the building, we share a staircase, and the staircase balcony) have changed four times. Each time, I've known when they moved in, but somehow each time, I missed them moving out, they're just gone. The apartment stays empty for a while, then someone else moves in.

Three college guys were the ones who just recently, as of the beginning of last week I think, moved out. They moved in during the first couple weeks of September, so they didn't stay very long at all. I think they were commuting (at least some of them were) to Corvallis, so perhaps they moved closer in that direction.

This, however, is the basis of my current novel. Just a nice old building converted into apartments where you see people move in, but then, one day, they're just gone.

It is, of course, more complex and plotty then that, but it really bugs me. I'm a very observant (see nosy) person, and I can't believe I've missed four different people move out of that apartment. I must be slipping in my old age.


Fresh and sparkly clean.
A new year will dawn tonight,
I wish you the best.

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