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The Premature Goodbye: Moving out During COVID
Dim, fluorescent lighting fell on us as we walked into the building that cast a shadow on the security guard watching the door. The rubbery latex barely got a grip on the ID cards, we flashed to the guard.
The hallway was quiet except for the faint sound of rolling carts that slowly got louder as we continued to walk.
I glanced around and noticed all the fliers hanging on the old, chipped, dusty walls. One spoke about ‘Spring Fling’ while the other boasted of a movie night to be hosted with, of course, popcorn. The fliers that once brought excitement to everyone looking at them, now just seemed to add salt to their wounds.
The hallway felt endless, as we quietly paced towards the elevator. Everyone passing me, kept a distance that felt so unfamiliar- almost uncomfortable, especially to someone accustomed to walking across congested NYC streets. They all avoided eye contact and didn’t say a word — typical New Yonkers. But I couldn’t help but think that not only were they not speaking because they didn’t want to but they were physically constrained by the suffocating devices on our faces — our only sense of control and protection during this uncertain time.
The quiet halls in the middle of this silenced city didn’t feel familiar — even though I’ve been here before.