Behind the first door on the right lived a man with some kind of awful breathing disorder. At the time I thought it was emphysema but I may be wrong. He smoked constantly, and he coughed like death would come hurling from his mouth at the next gasp for air. He seemed amiable enough but the ghastly sounds of his coughing tore through the door and the walls all day and all night.

The shared bathroom was at the end of this hall, as was the elevator and access to the stairs. The ceiling of room 317 also contained the same sort of bare light bulbs you see on the ceiling of this hallway.

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