She hated the row of key-and-mail boxes on the wall, with the bell buttons above each apartment number.

She hated the jangling of the hall telephone, the scurrying to answer, the prodding of whichever bell button would summon the tenant asked for by the caller.

She hated the meek little Filipino boy who swept that ugly hall every morning.

She hated the scrubby palms in front.

She hated the pillars where the paint was peeling badly.