Today around 1.30pm, an earthquake shook my city, and my building swayed violently. I’m terrified of earthquakes, and living alone makes them even more intimidating. I grabbed my coat, shoes, purse, phone, and laptop—though I was still in my merino long underwear and slippers—and ran outside.

On the stairs, I met my downstairs neighbor for the first time since moving in two months ago. She hesitated and asked, “Should we go out?” I wasn’t sure, but I told her, “I am,” and she followed me.

Once the shaking stopped, we lingered outside, chatting. By the time we went back in, we had exchanged numbers, and she had invited me to a secret supper and theater event she’s organizing next week. This was my second earthquake since moving to Lisbon, and while they still shake me up, at least this one led to an unexpected connection. Now, I know that if there’s another earthquake, she’ll check on me—and I’ll check on her. You really never know what’s around the corner.