A tale of two stories

My tale is of two stories, not the type you sit in a circle around a campfire and listen to, but rather the type that populate a house. The first is a quaint third story, the second a more vacuous second story. I suppose one could also call them floors, but they are so much more than the linoleum or carpet that covers them. They are the walls, the ceilings (my goodness, the ceilings), the adornments, the bathroom fixtures, the kitchen appliances. To some, they are home. Both of these stories are situated in a Green and Yellow Building located on a somewhat-active street near a park, a lake, and a zoo in a medium-ish suburb of a large city. Two below Three, following numerological law. Two and Three became populated about 17 months ago, almost at the same time. Two’s residents were female and both gainfully employed in the health field. Three’s tenants were also both female and both students at the local University. The tenants of both came to know each other quite well. 12 months after first tenanting Three, one of Three’s residents moved to a new story that would be by far warmer and more aqueous. Three gained a new resident. Not too long after that, both Two and Three gained even more residents…but they were not the type of tenant most buildings (or stories) would admire. These tenants were small, furry, scavengers and rabble rousers, mess-makers, and were not bathroom-trained. Further, they didn’t understand the concept of walls, doors, or furniture. Two and Three were heartsick, as were their tenants, that these interlopers would dare to move in without permission. The tenants set out to persuade the new furry home wreckers to leave the premises immediately. No such luck. The four legged squatters were comfortable, and intelligent. They ignored bribes left on little wooden planks, conveniently located on the floor where they could reach them. They ignored little blue pellets that taste good, but may cause indigestion. They ignored attempts to lock other entrances that had been found behind appliances. And having found a convenient shelter and source of food and water, they multiplied.

Here is where my tale takes a sad turn. It seems that the squatters have convinced Two’s tenants to vacate the premises, and find a new, less occupied, story to live in. They have given notice to the Owner of the Building, and in 30 days, will say goodbye forever to Two, and the Green and Yellow Building Two resides in. As the residents of One also moved on to a bigger story, soon Three’s two tenants will be all alone in the Building meant for at least 6.

Three’s tenants, after learning the plans of Two’s, thought about the larger space available within Two. While there is a smaller kitchen, Two sports both a dining and living room. There are two bedrooms, same as Three, but in Two they are more of equal proportions, and both have closable doors. The bathroom of Two is not a bane-to-the-existence-of-all-menfolk as in Three, and there is more room to move about. Whereas Three has slanted ceiling and a feeling of unfinished-ness to her, Two has straight walls and ceilings and woodwork. (Three’s slanted ceilings give her character and charm however.) There is a front and back porch available with Two (although the front porch is shared with Three’s tenants). The living room in Two has a fireplace, although the jury is out on whether or not it is a usable fireplace, or just for decoration. The squatter infestation, reported by Two’s tenants, is much worse than on Three, however. The Owner of the Building charges more for Two than Three as well. Three’s tenants haven’t decided what to do. They like their little hobbit-hole, and have become quite cozy. To move one story down would require effort (although since the Building wouldn’t change, frigid weather is not involved.) My tale has mentioned that ceilings were different, and they become an issue in the decision. Three’s ceiling/walls have born the stress of time, hanging always at a 45-degree angle to the horizontal. This past summer some of these ceiling/walls came crashing down, much to the dismay of Three’s tenants. There are still Cracks…sometime next summer more ceiling/walls will come crashing down, or will have to be removed and replaced before said event occurs. This annoys Three’s tenants as they have no wish to deal with the dust and interruption that occurs during these events.

Still, from adversity comes ingenuity. What if Three’s tenants did move to Two? That would eliminate the ceiling crisis completely. (Who knows what new crisis could occur, but that is for another tale.) What if The Owner of the Building then came into the now vacated Three and fixed the rest of the ceilings and repainted? Then there would be an empty, quaint story above Two where perhaps new-tenants-of-Two’s friends might wish to move in?!

As you can see, my tale is far from complete. A new chapter will be written in the morrow, when the tenants of Three go to the Owner of the Building with the monthly boarding fees and the above propositions. Stay tuned to see what, if anything changes in the Green and Yellow Building.