About six months ago someone new moved in next door. The old man that had lived in the apartment next to ours for over a decade had passed by. We were at his funeral, and we missed him from day one. Because he was the perfect neighbor: If I wouldn’t have run into him in the hallway from time to time, I wouldn’t even have noticed that he was there.
From the day we died on we were hoping that we will get a similar neighbor. Just someone that lives next to us and is invisible. And by far more important, silent. Because it just is relaxing when you don’t hear anything at home. Unless you turn up the TV, or the radio, or the vacuum cleaner.
The place staid empty for a couple of months. Some renovation was done, the rent went up and so it took some time until the landlord found someone for the place. We were not that disappointed that it took that long: The longer no one was living next door, the longer it was quiet.