Luxury condos, first floor corridor to the loading dock. Doors along both sides. The pits, but still expensive. I'm carrying rugs. I pass a man exiting his apartment. Blue romper, arm in a sling, tiny brown dog, shades indoors. Someone closed the exit. A woman in a blue denim dress stands there. She closed it. You see, there are flies. Black ones! The corridor is dim. I nod. "Did you hear about the mosquitos? They're killing people up north!" She grins earnestly. I exit. A fly lands on the back of my hand. I can't shake it off.