Place Past Perfect

She is just as much of a place to me as a person.
Second floor walk-up. Skylights illuminate with clarity all day long. Nightfall, when she arrives; LEDs that automatically come on. Stupendous heat in the winter; hand-in-hand with chill air during summer. Double-pane windows seem misplaced in an apartment with north-facing views. Every other month, for a period of 14 days, the front door disappears. She always arrives early, with extra food.