Apartment 308 Novels & Stories

Her professional smile became genuinely warm and accommodating. "Of course, Mrs. Dettling! I completely understand. Mr. Thaddeus Ashworth lives in apartment 1009 on the ninety-first floor, and Mr. Thaddeus Jacob is in apartment 501 on the fifty-ninth floor. The elevators are just around the corner to your right. Would you like me to call ahead to let them know you're coming?" "No, thank you. I'd prefer to surprise him," I replied, grateful for her helpfulness while internally cringing at how I'd had to use my married name to get the information I needed.

"Ma'am, did I get the wrong unit? Is this Building 6, Unit 1, Apartment 301?" "You're at the right place. Are you here to visit the previous owner?" the woman asked.

The apartment building was on the west side of Manhattan, the kind of building that had been ordinary in 1984 and stayed ordinary by never trying to become anything else. Four floors. A buzzer panel with names written in different hands across different decades. A lobby that smelled like old carpet and someone's dinner from two floors up. Dominic pressed the button for 3C. A long pause. Then a voice through the intercom, small and clear and entirely unsurprised. "Fourth floor. The elevator does not work."

I grabbed my jacket. "Come on, let's go to the apartment." We soon arrived at the neighborhood. The door to the apartment I had carefully renovated was wide open. Bertha was directing several workers as they carried out the furniture I had bought. She said, "Be careful. Everything's expensive. They'll sell for a lot." When she saw me, she smiled smugly. "Well, well. If it isn't Ms. Shaw. Here you see your unit? Too bad for you. This place belongs to the Carters now."

Moving up to the third floor of the dorms, she looked at the key card in her hand, and glanced at the room number- 2301 and pressed her fingerprint into it which had already been registered in the biometrics. When the door opened, she realised that it was a room for 3 people and was glad that it was a mini apartment and had three different rooms, a living area with a small kitchen on the side and two different bathrooms. They were all scattered with stuff and the living area was decorated giving a warm cosy vibe. It went along with her taste, and gave a homely feeling. They had a good sized balcony attached to the living room and it too, was decorated pretty well with chairs and coffee table

"I just... I miss my room. My things. I want to be somewhere that feels like home." The three men exchanged glances, some silent communication passing between them. Finally, Lorenzo nodded. "Give us the address." --- The apartment was in Queens, a fourth-floor walkup in a building that had seen better days. As we climbed the stairs—no elevator, of course—I became increasingly self-conscious about what they were seeing. The hallway carpet was worn and stained. The walls needed a fresh coat of paint. You could hear arguments through doors, a baby crying somewhere above us, the smell of someone's cooking permeating everything.

Johanna's heart seemed to be touched by something, and her nose even felt a little sour. "That's settled then." Abigail got up and went out. After getting on the car, she opened her phone and found a house from her collection of assets that was the smallest in size and located in the city center. This is a small apartment located on the Sunshine Coast, fully furnished, with an area of 90 square meters. The entrance password should be 101010. Several grandfathers often give her houses, and for her convenience to remember, the passwords are all set to this.

-Yes, come in, he wants me to take you, you have suitcases. -No, I don't have any suitcases and yes, yes, please take me to the apartment. They went up to the penhouse and the concierge told him: -There is no loss, it is the top floor, it is the best apartment, it even has a small swimming pool, if you need anything, just let me know. They arrived, the elevator opened and Lidia could not believe her eyes and said: "It is a luxury apartment: -It's a luxury apartment, not even in my dreams could I imagine it like this.

Damon laughs, and we finally arrive at our apartment complex. “Which one is yours?” Damon asks, and I point him to our building. “We are apartment 301,” I sigh, and he smirks. “So, the third floor?” he says, looking up at the balconies above. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t even break a sweat.” “Oh, no! Julie, I can handle the bags! You have done enough,” I try, but I already know that isn’t going to work. “Jessica! This isn’t up for debate!” he uses that line again, and I shrink into my seat. I’m not ashamed of our apartment per se; it could be worse, but I don’t even have a bedroom.

One they got to their floor Jordan took out a set of keys and opened apartment 608. Despite the rundown appearance on the outside, the actual apartment was bigger than Maya imagined. The door opened to an open plan living space that connected the kitchen and the living room. The tiles were laminate in a charcoal grey. They all stepped inside and got to work. Reid took out a laptop from one of the duffles and stared typing away. What he was typing and to whom? Maya was none the wiser. "Maya come, we need to change our clothes "Joel announced and walked into one of the three rooms.