When I loved in a block of apartments,my downstairs neighbour also mysteriously disappeared suddenly, leaving his possessions to be sold in an estate sale. I didn’t know him, except for the occasional shouting match with his girlfriend, but I invented an imaginary career for him that matched what little I saw and heard of him.
In my mind he was a photographer, who travelled the world taking pictures of statuesque models in exotic locales, and his girlfriend frequently accused him of sleeping with his models.
I figured he decided to remain in Paris and sent word to just sell his stuff.