#letterstonoone: Dear Diary
I think I'm living next door to KGB operatives. For six months I never met my neighbours, the only hints to their existence was the Webber BBQ and 3 IKEA stools I could see from the street on their balcony. Occasionally their car would be parked beside mine, but mostly not, they'd leave for work early and come home late. Then I started to notice their car would change regularly, fluctuating from upmarket models to more modest 'I'm regular just like you' models, and back again.
In their storage cage hanging above their car spot, I started looking for clues. I found basically every piece of sporting equipment imaginable. Wetsuits, ski poles, tennis racquets. Who has time for ALL of these pursuits? The only logical explanation is perhaps they are trying to infiltrate some high flying WASPs with endless polo-shirt-wearing downtime. Then again the Rio Olympics are fast approaching and maybe they're just fanatics.
The frequency of my mobile phone was next to go. There was an unidentifiable interference, a morse code tap. Turned out I was speaking to everyone on my phone on loud speaker BUT at a really low volume. Phew, false alarm.
Finally, the day came, and I met one half of the couple. A mid-30s professional named Krista, she had an accent I couldn't place, but it was Eastern European that's for sure. We enjoyed one jovial elevator trip together. She told me she works for a car dealership and her and her husband spend most weekends on sporting day trips. We've never seen each other again.
Note to self: I really need to stop watching The Americans.
Lisa Marie Corso xo