Will I remember Little Prince and the ramshackle-looking window panes of 4/k/month apartments? Black wrought iron railings, surfaces bubbling from layers of paint. 60 million visiting pairs of feet pass by each year, not knowing that Inside, stairs lead straight up and back, each landing; a door to a secret world. Where cubbies, tucked away, become bedrooms for young children, and bathtubs brazenly stand in kitchens. This is the legacy of a 19th century building that persists in a 21st century metropolis. By day, the inhabitants lift fingers and move mountains; by night, shuffle across the parquet floors of yesteryear’s common man. Recently, I can only ask myself, what is my place here?