One Last Night in 5F

Without curtains on the windows, the world becomes a whole lot nearer. The girls we spy on across the alley and down one floor see us staring plainly, rather than just a flitting of curtain as we dash away. A teenaged boy as big as a grown man sits on the fire escape, talks on the phone, and picks his toes: must be a lady on the other end of the line. The flicker of light across and up one says that someone is watching television. A luxury, we think, as we sold our television two days ago. Now their window is our television set. They entertain us until we need to change the channel and surf our eyes left, right, down.

Earlier today, a bird ran into the window and flapped away in a shock. Surprise Mssr. Pigeon! We took down the curtains just to ruin your day. He probably missed the air conditioner where he used to perch, but that went four days ago. Now the open window is our air conditioner.

That shape one up and to the left... is that a person? Or a bulbous something? Just a house plant silhouetted through windows, bars, and fire escape.

No faces have appeared at the windows yet, thank heavens. We can think of little worse than a face appearing, especially five stories up.

When it comes time for bed, no alarm needs be set. The sun rises when it rises and so we with it. This is our last night here with the giant windows, the squeaky floorboards, the perpetually streaming toilet, and the neighbor girls at their table with supper and laptops. We hope they (across the way) do not watch us while we sleep. If they must, at least let our faces be pleasant.

Goodnight.