Chapter Text
Anthony J. Crowley had been living in the same, dull, apartment for the last twenty years. After graduating from university he had spent a couple years travelling the world and had intended to do so for the rest of his life, working on short-term projects at different local research institutions. But then his mother had fallen ill, and he had been forced to return to London. The bills had been enormous and continued coming in months after his mother’s passing. Before he knew it, he had taken a job at the local university, and he had become stuck in the exact lifestyle he had sought to avoid his entire life. At first he hated it. The routine, the structure, the endless cycle he was in, everything. He vowed to leave as soon as the bills had been paid. But months faded into years, and time numbed his intense longing for escape. He was still restless, for sure, but he had accepted his fate. Circumstances could be worse, and if the job paid well, he would simply have to be content with frequent summer trips. Life had lulled him into a numb sort of satisfaction. And in this state of odd contentment he watched the years slip away. That is, until two unsuspected factors burst into his life, bringing him back to reality with a startle.
The first of these was the arrival of a virus to the country. Schools started shutting down, and before he knew it, he was teaching from his living room. A living room, as he now found it, that was significantly smaller than he had always imagined. His apartment was a decent size for one person to be living in, but being home all the time made him realise how much he appreciated the change of scenery he had always had in the days before. And how big his classroom had always been. He hadn’t been able to afford a bigger apartment, not that it mattered much. Once you were stuck inside, everything felt small. His salary was good, but his yearly trips to faraway countries were not cheap. Neither was the rent in central London.
His house had never been very cluttered, and he was particularly grateful for that now. His belonging existed out of the necessary furniture and a couple dozen plants lining the grey walls. So he was trapped here, in a small, concrete apartment block, looking out at another small, concrete apartment block.
He taught his classes from behind his screen, sitting at a glass table he had pushed against the back window, just to give him the feeling that his living space extended beyond the grey walls holding him captive. Next to him, he held a small whiteboard on which he drew out the formulas he had to teach his students. He had specifically learnt to draw backwards for this, as he had quickly discovered that his laptop mirrored everything he did, and he didn’t have anything better to do with his free time anyway. At least his students found it entertaining.
The months passed by and the lockdown continued, and Anthony grew restless. He barely had any contact with any people anymore, and it was depressing. It made him question every choice that had led him to this life. Why had he not returned to doing research in Thailand as he had done all those years back? Why wasn’t he deep in the Amazon, finding new species of plants? If this is what his life had led to, he didn’t like it. As soon as the borders open, I’m leaving. He thought. I’m selling everything I own and relocating somewhere warm and sunny. But as winter turned into spring there was still no sign of the normalcy of life before the pandemic, and Anthony’s feelings were once again numbed. Not by contentment, but by simply not caring anymore. It was at this point, as the final weeks of classes were just around the corner, that Anthony was woken once again by another significant change. The arrival of a new neighbour.