Before a curse word could even leave Neo’s mouth, his strange neighbor had hightailed it out of there like his ass was on fire.

“What the actual fuck?” 

He massaged his temples and dragged his hand down his face, groaning continuously. His eyes followed his new neighbor until he disappeared from view, a strange feeling nagging at his chest. Did he imagine seeing him in the other world? Perhaps the morning encounter, still fresh in his memory, made him envision the guy there.

None of this made any sense. Was he losing his actual damn mind?

Ever since he was a kid, that desolate landscape would replace the normal world in his eyes. At times, the transition was so abrupt and seamless that he wouldn’t notice until stepping out of his room into a vista of desert wastelands and ruined structures. Visions typically reserved for nightmares became his reality. He used to think he was crazy, even going as far as telling his shitty, good-for-nothing parents. Until that blew up in his face and he spent a week with true psychopaths. 

It never stopped, and as he got older, it became more frequent. He learned that there were certain rules to abide by in that “world.” Years of trial and error taught him the importance of these rules. A single misstep could provoke the demons of that realm, transforming them into lethal monsters out for blood.

He glanced at his phone, nearly shitting himself when he saw the time.

“Damn it, the laundromat is about to close! I’m out of clean underwear!” His other issues meant nothing if he didn’t make it in time to do his laundry. 

He arrived at the laundromat with a line out the door, hands filled to the brim with clothes. His breaths were haggard from the sudden physical exertion. There was no way he was going to get in if he didn’t cut the line. Unfortunately, pushing through old people wanting to wash their clothes was impossible. He almost got into a fistfight with an older guy with a cane.

As he entered, the laundromat was just about to close. He managed to charm the owner into allowing him to stay beyond the closing time. Indeed, having influential friends made all the difference.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you, man?”

“Unfortunately,” came the reply.

Across the counter from Neo stood a man in his late thirties. Black glasses set against his face highlighted a smooth, sharp jawline. His short, unkempt black hair brought to Neo’s mind an image of a child who had just showered and refused to comb his hair. Neo chuckled at the thought.

“Elio, Best friend—”

“What do you want?”

“I finally met my new neighbor.”

“Really?” Elio leaned on the counter, his eyes alight with curiosity. Gossip never failed to capture his friend’s interest—perhaps it was the contrast to spending all day with older adults discussing their gardens and bingo nights.

“Dude is a freak. You know those guys that wear tinfoil hats to hide from the aliens? He’s like that.”

“This shit would only happen to you.” Elio burst out laughing, wiping at his eyes with his arm. “Who did you piss off recently to get such good luck?”

“Shut up before I tell your wife I caught you gambling the other day.”

“Try me! See if I let your stinky ass in here again after hours.”

After they finished bickering and he finally folded the rest of his laundry, Neo gathered his things to leave. He flicked off his friend and headed back to his apartment.

The street lamps flickered to life, casting a glow that scarcely illuminated the pavement. His shabby apartment building he considered home loomed into sight. The journey from the laundromat to his apartment was short, and soon enough, he stood before his own door.

Driven by curiosity, he cast a glance at the neighboring apartment. The light was on, its rays sneaking through the curtains of the front window. For a moment, he thought he saw it move.

It had to be his imagination, right?

Without another thought, he entered his own home, body aching and mind dull.