The widow next door

the man next door the sam

tural stillness tha

o deep it pressed against her ribs. The street lamp outside flickered once, twice,

s sit

e. Not on

by a tall window that faced hers as if it

nfidently, on the armrests. His face was lost to shadow, but the shape of him

sn't

watching t

s wai

ing the way it always did when instinct took over. She had lea

t enough for the light to cat

lse sk

s, she

nd unwelcome. Men didn't sit like that unles

ay. Closed the curtain. Pr

d, she

way he sat so composed, so c

nother room, in another life,

ifted his

to w

to b

palm against the glass of the wi

tared back at her pal

, and though she still couldn't see his

curved h

. Kn

ad finally

t the cur

racing , now

recog