You weren’t a stalker, but you couldn’t help yourself, watching the boy in the apartment next door. He was so eccentric in a way you couldn’t place. The apartment was rich, bland, neat, with a sense of comforting coldness- an air of loneliness.

The boy sat at his piano playing the melody softly. He seemingly lived alone- considering no one else was ever on the floor.

As you watched from your windowsill he turned seeing you and locked eye contact. He’d seen you watching