Mr. Asian man

Marie sat down at her vanity and observed the plain reflection that did just the same to her as she to it. She never wore make up and the ownership of said vanity often baffled her.
Using her dead grandfather's zippo Marie lit a cigarette and watched as the smoke's transparency diffused across her face. "Two black eyes and no canceler," she said to her reflection, "shit." Marie walked over to the window and sat on it's ledge. Glancing at the poverty she thought so keenly to immense herself in. It was raining. Her heavy eye lids trudged across the street, there was a pile of trash. "Why did I come her?" she whispered hazily as smoke cascaded(flushed) from her mouth and nostrils.
She inhaled her next exhale and tossed her half smoked cigarette into the freezing rain. Marie stood up with the intention to shave her legs but something compelled her to watch the slow declining fall of her wasted cigarette. It landed on the border of a puddle but the ember remained orange. Just as Marie began to stand she saw, out of the corner of her eye, a cart. The cart stopped and from it a small fox like creature emerged. It hovered over her cigarette and after a moment of perplexity the fox-creature returned from where it emerged. Another moment passed but Marie's eyes pressed on ploring for the continuation of this strange occurrence. Sure enough, her hopes availed. The small hunched over man motoring the cart, like the fox-creature, walked out and hovered over the still embered cigarette. He picked the cigarette up, examined it, and took a drag, as if looking for a sign.
"Are you mad," she yelled five stories above.
"At you? I don't think," this man was very asian.
"Sorry?" hoping for a bit of elaboration. Marie thought it obvious that she was not asking the man if he was angry, but clearly the man clashed with this reasoning.
The asian man took a moment to really savor the taste of his drag and then looked up at Marie, "I don't think I'm mad at you." He looked contented as if that single drag answered his query with the cigarette and he resumed his duty of pushing his cart. Marie was quite befuddled by this speedy transaction and lingered at her window cill watching as the strange little man lumber away. Are these the people I am to coexist with, she wondered. The cart turned a corner and Marie went to shave her legs.

Chapter One: Moving In

"There's no elevator?"
"It's out of order at the moment. You'll have to use the stairs."
"My leg is broken..."
"I'm sorry, you'll have to use the stairs."
Both Marie and the man at the front desk glance over at the taxi driver who had just placed the last of her suitcases in the lobby. Among the one suitcase there were five more just like it in an assortment of shapes and sizes, she also had a small television and a bed frame. Unfortunately she lived on the fifth floor.
Marie groped in her pocket for the remainder of money she had left to her name. $108.76. She crutched over to where the taxi driver was standing waiting to be paid.
"Excuse me, sir," she said to the taxi driver, "could i pay you a little extra to bring that stuff up to my apartment?"
"What floor do you live on?"
"...Fifth."
For a moment the taxi driver looked at Marie with a quizzical brow as if to immediately say no, but then he looked at her; one broken leg, two black eyes, a broken nose and a neck brace.
"Sure," he said.
"I'd help you if-"
"It's quite alright., I understand."
After about another hour all of Marie's belongings were in her new home.