Outside the Stairwell Door

I came busting out of the stairwell door and nearly hit the little lady scurrying by.  She made a noise that a cat might make when it jumps off of a table and hits the ground.  Or a lower pitched guinea pig type sound.  In my surprise I turned and said, whoa sorry.  She was wearing an old wool hat with one of those puffy balls on top that have to be strictly ornamental as I can’t see those serving any type of utility.  She also had on a winter jacket that looked like it had a denim shell on the outside with some kind of writing.  I can’t recall what the writing said because I was so shocked by the pace in which she was moving past the door, the little squeaky terrified noise that came out of her small body and the fact that she didn’t turn around at all to acknowledge my prompt apology.  I contemplated that she was homeless and had found one of the many ways to easily access my “secure” building and escape the cold at sunset.  I started my walk in the opposite direction and then stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned around.  I was hoping that I would catch her looking back at me and at least get a glimpse of her face (which I assumed to be very mouse-like and had it not been, I would have been shocked).  No such luck.  She was, in point of fact, a resident or at least had access to one of the residences mailboxes as she was opening one with her back to me.  Maybe mouse-lady and I will meet again.  Next time I’ll try to knock her over with the door and at least I’d get a good look at her face as she lay in utter shock and panic on the carpeted hallway floor.  Maybe she won’t walk past that stairwell door ever again.