The smell is sharp, ammonia, decades of dog piss. Their dogs shit in front of my door every night. Maybe they think they’re leaving a gift, maybe they’re trying to be my friends. I want to be mad, I am mad, but they’re just stupid dogs doing what stupid dogs do. Every night. Eleven O’clock. The smell creeps under the door. I dump a can of Febreeze, smoke bowl after bowl after bowl. But the smell persists.