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She sat down on the floor, put the bong to her right, and placed the
package in her lap. Her heart started to race a bit at finding the unexpected object. She then carefully untied
the string and removed the brown paper. Inside, she found a tape. One of those old-fashioned kinds from the seventies
that she'd seen in documentaries on PBS. "Now what do I do?" she said to herself, knowing full well that
no one she knew could possibly have a machine to play the damn thing.
"Maybe Mrs. Hempstead will know of a way," she said, referring to her landlady that lived on the first
floor. Once again she ran down the stairs, this time two at a time, and knocked on Mrs. Hempstead's door.
"Well hello, Kim, how nice to see you. Is everything alright up on the fourth floor?" she asked.
"Fine. And my calves are already showing a marked improvement," she responded, with a sly grin.
"What's that dear?"
"Oh, never mind. I was just wonde
ring what you could tell me about one of the previous tenants. Did you know Laura Alexis?"
"Now that's a name I haven't heard in nearly thirty years, but yes, yes I did. Why do you ask?" Mrs.
Hempstead said, motioning for Kim to come inside out of the cold. Only, much like her own apartment, it was more
like out of the refrigerator and into the freezer. Apparently, none of the fireplaces in the building were in working
order and Mrs. Hempstead was either too cheap to turn her thermostat up or too old to notice the icicles forming
on the inside of her windows.
Kim sat down on the ancient sofa and waited for her landlady to join her. "She left this in my apartment,"
Kim said, handing Mrs. Hempstead the tape. "Any idea what it is?"
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