The Strange Notes Under My Door

Three weeks after I moved into my new flat, the first note appeared. It was folded neatly and slipped under my door. It just said, your plants need more light. Wait, my plants? Nobody had even been inside! Ha, honestly, I laughed it off at first. But the next Monday, there was another one. This time it said, you're working too late again. Okay, now that was genuinely creepy. So, I decided to play detective! I stayed up on Sunday night, listening by the door. Then, around midnight, I heard slow footsteps on the stairs, and a soft scratching sound at the bottom of the door. I threw the door open, ready to catch a stranger. And there she was, the tiny old lady from downstairs! She was about eighty, holding a pencil and looking terrified. Oh dear, I'm so sorry, she whispered. I didn't mean to frighten you. Well... it turned out she'd lived in my flat for forty years. Her husband used to grow tomatoes on that very windowsill. Since he passed away, she'd barely spoken to anyone. Writing to me, she said, made the building feel less empty. I didn't know what to say, so I invited her in for tea. She looked at my poor plants and shook her head. Ha, you're drowning them, dear, she told me. That was six months ago, and now we have tea every Sunday. My tomatoes are finally growing, thanks to her. And yes, she still leaves me notes under the door. But these days, I write back!