three days ago someone rung the doorbell to our apartment. my brother went downstairs to the lobby and answered the door. It was a woman accompanied by a policeman.

They were here to do an investigation.

I didn't know what was going on at the time, but the next day i found out that one of the tenants was reported missing. he was an old guy in his 70s. my parents told me he was a little senile, but he was a nice guy. i never saw him with a frown. you might have seen him passing out flyers with his wife in chinatown.

an hour, my mom walked by and showed me a newspaper with a picture of him.

he was found dead by the a pier in manhattan. i tried googling news about his death and i think this was it (http://www.myfoxphilly.com/dpps/news/tourists-spot-body-floating-in-river-ahead-of-tour-dpgonc-20110223-fc_12008858)

i never knew him and i don't feel any remorse, but it made me feel a little empty inside.

it made me think about dave