Àwọn Àmì-ìwé Tí A Fẹ̀

I wasn’t supposed to notice anything about him. My neighbor in 3B was just… off. He had this habit of leaving his apartment at exact times. Not “routine” exact—more like precision exact. 6:12 AM. 6:12 every time. I thought it was just weird until he said something to me one morning. I was leaving for work, juggling my coffee, when he opened his door and said: “Your lid isn’t closed.” I looked down. It wasn’t. I hadn’t even noticed. “Thanks,” I said, fixing it. He didn’t move. Just stared at me l