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Upstairs and Downstairs The apartment complex sat huddled like a stubborn giant. The building was home to multiple families who were immune to the constant chorus of traffic outside. A steady stream of sounds that fell silent only when the noise of the loudspeaker of a truck advertising ‘Buying scrap iron, old battery buying’ rolled by. The apartment walls were so paper thin you could hear a mosquito fart in another room. Open window breezes gifted the smells of street food vendors and life on the Savannah outside, offering both dust and park bench gossip. Rent was affordable but parking was often problematic.