Four Storey Building -

The fourth floor was empty—not abandoned, but waiting. For years, it held only dust and the echo of footsteps. Then one autumn, a retired violinist moved in. Now, at dusk, the four storey building breathes: bread rising, papers shuffling, heartbeats steady, and a bow drawn across strings—each floor a note in a quiet chord.

The third floor belonged to Lila, a night-shift nurse who hung her scrubs on the balcony rail and watered a single fern named Hector. She slept through the bakery’s morning rush, dreaming of quieter emergencies. four storey building

Here’s a short piece inspired by the phrase “four storey building”: The fourth floor was empty—not abandoned, but waiting

The second floor was a law office, quiet and stern. Mr. Hargrove rarely smiled, but he kept the rent paid for the three floors above him. Now, at dusk, the four storey building breathes: