Hi everyone here is my entry for Steemit Poetry contest hosted by @terrycraft
It didn't look like what he had typically seen.
A piece of paper with the weird scrawls. Geezer glanced at it assessing how difficult it would be to puzzle it out.
It was impossible. It was code. He heard a sound of car swishing in the drizzle outside.
Quick look in a crack between the curtains revealed a dark car that stopped in front of the building, its engine producing a muffled, monotonous hum.
While Geezer looked at it, its headlights switched off, a residual fluorescent glow in them slowly fading out. The engine went silent. Now there was only the sound of drizzle, the water drops pattering an obscure metal hulk standing with its wheels touching the sidewalk, immobile like a statue.
It felt like it belonged to that spot, like it had always been there.
Geezer quickly looked around, thinking what else he might have overlooked.
Except a couple of notepads and scraps of paper in the drawer, all covered with enigmatic scrawls and occasional drawings, there was nothing remarkable in the room.
Several shirts and two couples of trousers hanging sloppily in the wardrobe.
Unfinished plastic bottle of water and a portable lamp stood on the dark leathery surface of the table. Geezer noticed how antique this table looked, the tabletop was covered with something reminding a hardened deep brown leather enclosed by a grimy wooden rim.
The leather was covered by a web of scratches and a smattering of deeply ingrained stains. In several places it was slashed by razor.
There were some words scraped on it including several names.
The portable lamp, modern and lustrous, was out of place here, like somebody brought it to this room then moving away in a hurry just left it behind.
Geezer left the apartment, carefully closing the door behind him.
The dingy staircase dimly lit by incandescent bulbs was filled with ghostly rustles and murmurs coming from many closed doors echoing faintly back and forth. Geezer made several steps down the stairs and stopped listening intently.
He had a vague feeling on the edge of his perception of somebody standing below on the first floor. Several people.
Nothing obvious revealing their presence like voices, coughs, or shuffles that would be greatly amplified in this echo chamber.
Like somebody stood their very still, not making any sounds, breathing quietly. Yet Geezer felt their presence, something in the pattern of ambient noise and echoes was out of joint, strange.
Trying not to make any noise, painstakingly slowly, aware of each step Geezer began to walk up the stairs.
He kept listening attentively. Several minutes later he heard something like an echo of muffled cough. Like somebody cleared his throat quietly.
Geezer quickly assessed the disposition. On the upper floor there would likely be a vent leading to the roof. It would also very likely be locked shut with a heavy rusty padlock hanging on the hinges.
There was a "fire ladder" - a set of the metal bars welded together and attached to the wall outside. Now the metal bars were wet from the drizzle and slippery.
Also the ladder was no less than a meter from the nearest window. A fair chance to slip and die very quickly and very accidentally. Also the fire ladder was on the wall facing the street where at that moment stood a ghostly sentinel of the car
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