Yes, there's a virus among us and also:
One stair is in disrepair -- its stone aggregate cracked, flaking, a piece of rusty rebar exposed, starting to sag, a little like a loose tooth; yellow caution tape frays, having outlived what was supposed to be temporary duty. "We got the wrong-sized tread," I'm told, to explain the holdup. "The right one is on the way."
A cough from the faucet, some water, mostly air comes out, more turbulent spurts. Plumbers have been in the building, I surmise.
Rats colonize the nearby dumpster enclosure. We hear them chitter, skitter. From time to time this winter, a sentinel perches on our balcony, in search of sustenance: