Lulu and Sinclair walked out the front door and headed toward their usual corner in front of the park. The air was wet and the clouds hung heavily like wet rags. Cold and gloomy described the feel of the day. The people walking by hung their heads shielding them from the cold blasts of air coming from the incoming storm. Sinclair had curled up in a pile of dry leaves in order to keep warm for his midmorning nap. The red carnations were not selling. Business needed to pick up; there needed to be some sort of income for Lulu soon. She watched as Lola Fontaine quickly walked down the street toward the bar. She was scurrying toward the entrance in high heeled shoes and made it into the building just in time. The sky was getting increasingly darker and the clouds seemed to hang right above her head; she decided to close up for the day. As Lulu was putting her things together to head back to Washington Heights, the sky broke open. Heavy drops fell to the ground splattering as they hit the pavement and she desperately ran across the street with Sinclair by her side. Ming Ming's was the closest entrance so she ran in with Sinclair. A woman came running up from the back of the restaurant moving her mouth in big exaggerated motions. She kept pointing to Sinclair and by reading the woman lips Lulu decided that she and Sinclair should get the hell out. Dogs were not allowed. The two stepped out of the door and the woman closed it behind them. She was shaking her finger as she closed the door. She walked back to the back of the restaurant throwing up her hands, still enraged. The problem was that it was still raining cats and dogs outside. Lulu and Sinclair would have to make a run for the apartment. As they reached the entrance to Washington Heights, Lulu noticed the mysterious man that she had seen last week lurking around the park. He had had a heated private conversation with someone but Lulu had been unable to make out what was being said. The two men were too secretive and had covered their faces to well for Lulu to make out the wording. The only reason she recognized this man was from his unusual style, not many men or people have tangerine sweat pants. The man seemed to be waiting for someone in the lobby but Lulu was too cold and wet to stick around to see who was meeting him. She and Sinclair headed toward the elevator. She pressed to button and waited for the doors to open. It was time for some dry clothes.

The Night

As Lulu Lamar re rigged her morning wake-up alarm, she felt the ground shake from Sinclair bounding in to say goodnight and then curl up in his usual corner of the bed. His tongue brushed across her toes, tickling them and she reached down and rubbed his soft ears. Lulu switched on the mattress heater, gently pulled back the old quilt that was once her mother's and climbed into the bed, snuggling up to her best and only friend Sinclair. The window was open letting the cool night air fill the room and she could smell the lingering scent of Chinese from Ming Ming's stream in with the breeze. Lulu slowly drifted off to sleep trying not to think about the many tasks of tomorrow.
Her eyes opened and closed. The air felt thick to her lungs, strangely thick. She opened her eyes and sat up to find flames all around her bed. Washington Heights was ablaze. She could now feel herself shaking from fear and the flames hot breath covering like a velvet curtain. She looked helplessly for Sinclair, but he was no where in sight. She had no one to comfort her and the smoke was making it hard to see; without her sight she would be left with just three senses and that was no good. She would die in these flames alone and without comfort. Looking around helplessly for a way out, she saw a familiar figure climbing through the window. A man she had not seen for many years, her father. He pulled himself through the window frame and came to her bedside, seeming to walk right through the flames. He sat down on the bed and reassured her that everything would be just fine. He kissed her cheek quite sloppily and then started to scratch her back. Lulu suddenly awoke from her dream to the kind presence of Sinclair and a very hot mattress heater. She turned off the heater and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It read 4:00 am. Way too early for Lulu so she snuggled back down and drifted back to sleep with Sinclair by her side.
The alarm had gone off and she felt the slow dripping of water on her forehead. She no longer had money for a nurse to wake her, so she had resort to other methods. Lulu prepared herself for the day, scooped up her flowers and put them in a basket. They were red carnations today, fake of course because of the weather. She called to Sinclair and walked out the door with him by her side carefully closing the old somewhat broken door and locking it. As she walked down the hall she passed Delilah Plunk. She had a box of cookies and seemed to be counting the rows and then eating the fifth cookie down. How strange. She caught Lulu's glance and gave her a short smile. Lulu weakly smiled back and hurried toward the elevator. The elevator always left Lulu feeling uneasy the way shook going up and down. It felt like a small earthquake. She was always relieved when it hit the right floor. Another cold, long day was about to start, but Lulu was not prepared for this particularly unusual day.

Lulu Lamar Apt. 591

Lulu Lamar is deaf woman in her late twenties. She sells flowers in front of the park and has lost all relatives and friends, except for her beloved dog. She leads a quiet life literally and figuratively and enjoys the company of her dog Sinclair, the mutt. She and him get along quite nicely and with her great eyesight and his wonderful sense of smell they make a fine pair for finding unusual things on their daily walks through the neighborhood. The two are as thick as thieves and could never be separated.
When her father died, he left her with some inheritance but as the years have rolled on the money has dwindled. As a result, she has recently moved to Washington Heights in order to have a lower cost of living. She is now working to find money to survive but has not yet had any success. Her life has been going downward for the past couple of years and has not yet made any steps toward moving upward again. Being deaf, she can read lips and enjoys watching people's conversations, since she has so few. She watches some conversations that could be quite incriminating to those involved. Maybe one day the information will come in handy.