The tenant lives in the penthouse.
A more elegant way of saying the rooftop (covered and heated, by the way).
These past few weeks I’ve had to deal with him and his exaggerated rationality.
Practical matters, maintenance, alignment, touch-ups here and there. Everything has to be perfect.
My real estate agent is called Wass Ohfall, no joke, I always comfort myself by saying, well, he “Was Awful”, but then he got better.
Anyway, Wass advises me that I should rent my property to a better tenant, the one who lives a few floors below.
Wass knows me well and I trust him.
When my tenant upstairs starts contradicting me, imposing his rationality, Wass, as if he were my conscience, tells me: Change him now!
The truth is, the tenant on the rooftop limits my imagination, constricts my potential clairvoyance, kills my intuition, cancels the magic. I decided to let him know in writing and in the most delicate way.
Dear tenant,
I am very sorry to have to tell you that you have to move off my roof, at the latest, now!
The mind is not always right.
Sincerely,
Leonor
Yes, I think it is clear now.
The “tenant” upstairs is that irritating and hyper-logical little voice that lives on my roof, or head, and that sometimes tries to square me.
I am going to follow Ohfall’s advice and stay with the other tenant, the one who lives warmly in my chest, in a spacious apartment, with walls made of horizon and wind.
The one who invites me to fly every day, even if I crash.
PS: The character of Ezra Maloso in the Spanish version (Wass Ohfall) was inspired by an advertisement of a real estate agency that I see daily and that makes me laugh. I was tempted to invite him to my story, modifying his last name a little.