We finished the issue today. The last days are in some ways the worst. There are always a thousand piddling things wrong that have to be fixed. I correct and run out one page and it comes back smeared with red and I have to do it again. Everyone was on edge. Faren silent, Trevin snappish, Shelly exasperated because Charlie was giving contradictory orders. But, we got it out. Tomorrow, Charlie can leave for wherever he is going a comparatively happy man.

New neighbors have moved in downstairs. Earlier this evening there was a lot of scraping and bumping, loud music, and voices echoing up the stairwell. The phone downstairs is hooked up now (I bumped into the phone man yesterday coming out of our apartment) and they’ve gotten about three calls so far.

At one point this evening one of them, the blonde one with glasses, rang the doorbell and asked me to move the car so they could get the furniture in. Across the street were at least two pick-up trucks loaded with furniture, and three men talking to each other in Spanish. Lucius was upset. He kept crowding by the door at the foot of the stairs, meowing and hurrying up to me as if he expected me to do something about it.