John, from Apartment 3c, can always get the elevator at Kilter Street Manor Apartments to work for him. It’s reluctant or uncooperative for everyone else, but not for him. Maybe because he has a sunny disposition. He’s always smiling, but somehow without seeming creepy.
He’s an event planner who specializes in themed parties. Zeb also regularly consults with him about the apartment building’s communal get-togethers; he’s good at stretching a limited budget.
Some people doubt that he can be a good event planner, because he is legally blind. But he does well.
As for his appearance: he’s got a medium build and medium height, pale skin and thick brown hair. Nothing about his looks is really remarkable, except for his smile. Which again, isn’t creepy, though it does sometimes make people wonder what there is to smile about so much. Whatever it is, he knows the secret.
Gilbert Sullivan Frisch, who lives in Apartment 2a, doesn’t like Gilbert & Sullivan’s music, though his adopted parents do, very much. He turned up in their living room, as a baby, no one knows from where. A recording of The Pirates of Penzance was playing at the time.
He likes to go by G.S. Frisch. Or Gil, call him Gil. Not Gilbert, or Sully.
Gil is a tall, balding man with a pleasant, good-looking face and a peaches and cream complexion. He’s in his mid to late 30s. The first impression he gives is of a man who’s nice but not particularly confident.
He currently works as a security guard at the City Folk Art Museum. He used to be a social worker.
Hank and Ivy are married and share many interests, so they decided to combine their profile page. They’re independent and intertwined, mapping out a shared life of beauty, love and nerdy pursuits.
Both are in their early 30s. Ivy is ginger-haired and comes from a mixed Irish-American and Italian-American background. Hank has dark, curly hair that he sometimes dyes blue, and he’s African-American. Both he and Ivy work with computers; one of their passions is making computer games. They also love gardening, wearing costumes, and playing board games and capture the flag. They’re very big on role-playing of all sorts, and arguing about fictional characters at mealtimes and in the shower.
Currently, Ivy is pregnant.
Some of their differences:
Hank has a stronger tendency to get stressed out and be pessimistic. Ivy is more prone to flights of fantasy, with amazing ideas as a result, though not all of them can be effected within the limitations of this world.
They find it difficult to stay angry or annoyed with each other. Certain disputes they’ve resolved through intense board game competition. Even when they disagree, they speak to each other from a loving place – no malice or viciousness or contempt. They see themselves as being on a team: the two of them vs. whatever the world tries to throw at them.
Does Mrs. Selby have a first name? Her mailbox just says ‘Selby,’ and to be honest, I can’t imagine her with a first name. She seems like she was born Mrs. Selby. (Selby being the name of her second husband, I think.)
Mrs. Selby is old. How old? I don’t know. I’ve heard people wishing her happy birthday on different dates, and she seems to just absorb multiple birthdays as if they’re nothing.
She’s a beautiful woman. Not a magazine beauty, but beautiful in the way of an old china gravy boat or a lace doily. She can talk about almost anything: The weather, the flowers on her windowsill, what she tells her flowers when they’re dying on her. She talks about the mice and squirrels that live in the walls. She’s heard ghosts in the corridors of our apartment building. She tells me about her childhood, her jolly drunk father, her mother who never smiled. She describes books she reads, written by outdoorsy folk who wax poetic about the tawny hides of fawns in dappled woods. She watches black-and-white movies and spoils the endings for me. She watches soap operas and fills me in on which pair of amnesiacs made love last week on a hospital bed or a bearskin rug. I know all of the pet peeves of both her late husbands. As a rule though, she never talks about her only child, who died when he was twenty.
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Sigrid, of Apartment 2b, has an ethereal beauty – she’s willowy with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, an aura of calm. She doesn’t say much, and I can imagine that people project a lot onto her (I know I started to, and had to catch myself – probably I’ll need to keep catching myself). They read in her what they want to see. I want to know what she sees.
I don’t know much about her, other than that she manages arts programs at The Sunny Tortoise Senior Living Facility. Her sense of style tends towards pastels, artistic jewelry, things that are floaty, soft, colorful.
Around Sigrid’s Home
Her fairy Christmas tree
Stories Inspired by Sigrid
When Linda Sketched the Dead
Elana Elisa thinks I’m harmless. I don’t doubt that behind my back she’ll say unflattering things about me. But she’ll also confide in me, because I’m discreet and inoffensive to her.
Origins and Appearance
She’s middle-aged with short, curly dark hair. Her favorite outfit is a turquoise tracksuit. She generally favors tracksuits, though she isn’t given to exercising much. Her skin is pale, and she’s told me she dislikes sunlight.
She was born in Florida.
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Howard is a grad student. Often, I see him roaming the basement laundry room in pajama bottoms and a faded t-shirt, a far-off look in his eyes.
Origins and Appearance
Howard is slender and athletic, with dark hair and eyes. He’s in his mid-20s.
His mom’s side of the family is Korean. On his dad’s side, his grandparents are a US military veteran and a woman from the Philippines. Howard himself was born in Mexico (to vacationing parents who didn’t expect him to arrive a month before his due date).
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