Why do you keep watching her? What is it that’s so appealing? Maybe it’s just that you can. After all, her curtains are open. Are the curtains usually drawn? They must be because you would have noticed her by now, someone that beautiful.
She must be getting ready for a date. Of course, she has a boyfriend coming over. How could she not? But maybe she doesn’t. There’s food out and some wine. Although, the table isn’t set and the only wine glass is the one in her hand. Look how gracefully she holds the glass, how she slinks and dances without spilling a drop.
How have you never seen her? Surely, you would have spotted her in the courtyard. Maybe even crossed paths at the coffee shop on the corner or the bar downstairs. Did she just move in? That explains it. You couldn’t miss someone that perfect, so she must be new to the building.
What could she be listening to over there? You can only imagine it’s something cool, some jazz you’ve never heard, or something French, like they play in Godard films. It’s probably something French. She looks French with her red lipstick and bobbed hair.
You open the sliding door and move onto your balcony to get a closer look, to maybe hear the music. How cool would it be to date someone French? Not just someone, but this woman, the one who looks so free and alive. You remember what that was like, don’t you? Before all the bills, being strapped with the mortgage on this cramped condo you can barely afford, and all the jobs with their slightly increasing salaries and corresponding increases in hours. You think she must rent. Could be that her parents pay for the place while she’s in school. No one with a house payment could be that full of life.
You’ve got to meet her. Someone with that energy and those looks is exactly what you need to pull you out of this rut you’re in. You can’t just keep going to work and doing the same thing everyday. It’s not healthy. You feel dead, but you’re too young to feel dead. You’re not that old. Plenty of people get married in their thirties. Why couldn’t you?
But how? How would you meet her? Can’t just wait downstairs on one of the garden benches. That would be creepy.
She’s drinking wine. That’s good. Maybe she’ll go to the bar after dinner. You can head down there now and get a few drinks in before she gets there to loosen up a bit. It’s Tuesday. Joe’s bartending, and there might be a band. She loves music.
There. The music from her place. You can hear it, but it’s not what you imagined. She’s still dancing, but it’s to “ABC” by The Jackson 5.
You’re watching her when you see something run down the hall of her apartment through the open window to the right. Was the window open this whole time? Could be a dog, but it’s not. It’s a kid, a boy. She grabs his hands, and they dance together until her husband puts down his wine glass and cuts in. You grab your coat and head to the bar. There might be a band.
Deron Eckert is a writer and attorney who lives in Lexington, Kentucky. His poetry has appeared in Rattle Magazine, and his fiction has appeared in Sky Island Journal. He is currently seeking publication for his Southern Gothic, coming-of-age novel, which explores how personal experiences change our preconceived notions of right and wrong.
