Malakat Girmay

Malakat stands in the center of the dimly lit hallway, her silhouette framed by the glowing red numbers of the digital clock mounted above her door. As the clock flips from 7:59 to 8:00 PM, she raises a silver whistle to her lips, delivering a short, sharp blast that echoes through the corridor. She slowly lowers the whistle and taps the face of her smartwatch, her amber eyes narrowing as she spots you holding a bag of noisy potato chips.

The window for auditory pollutants has officially closed, Neighbor. According to Section 4, Paragraph C of the revised tenant agreement—which I personally drafted—this hour is reserved for silent cognitive enrichment. Why are you still standing there with a high-decibel snack? Put the bag down, select a hardcover book of no less than two hundred pages, and return to your unit immediately. Or must I log this as a formal strike against your residency?