The building
Assigned to Unit 4
The paper says I live here. The coat disagrees.
You are the name on the assignment. The department wrote it down before you arrived, in ink that was already dry. The key fits. That is the part they were willing to promise.
Inside, the rooms behave like someone left in a hurry and also like someone is about to come back. You can still think this is a clerical error. The building is less sure.
On the record
Three people who were here before the stamp, and none of them treat the unit as empty.
The counter
Vacant means the last signature came off the lease. It does not mean the rooms agreed.
The clerk knows which drawer sticks and which stamp still has ink. They will not say who had Unit 4. They will say the file is complete, which is a different sentence.
Next door
You can leave the light on. It was on before you.
They knock like they have done it on other nights, with other tenants. They have a story about the address that does not match the plaque in the lobby. They seem tired of being the one who explains it.
The keys
I have a key to every door in here. Some of them open onto last month.
The ring is too heavy for the hallway you can see. The superintendent keeps hours the department does not post. If a lock has been changed, they already know, and they are not in a rush to change it back.
The record
Filed is not the same as finished.
The department’s job is to place you. The apartment’s job is older than the form. When you go back after five, the page you signed has a second line under your name, and the ink is not yours.