The arm chair is in the corner in the front of the apartment, near the not quite covered window facing the street.

I was standing at the meat counter at the supermarket when I heard a "Hey neighbor" behind me and turned around, then looked down a foot to where she stood, her dark hair even frizzier than usual, dressed in jogging clothes, smiling up at me, her bright eyes and wide smile instantly making my heart melt.

It is dark out and the lights are on.

"Out without the kids?" I asked, as casually as possible without sounding too casual, as though some possibility might be implied in the question.

Anyone who likes to see, who likes to watch, who wants to know and understand could, with minimal effort, look inside.

"Actually they're away for a month, though they'll be back in a week and a half."

Anyone, for instance, who lived next door.

"wow".

Though my wife does not fit that description.

"Yeah, it's kind of weird."

Could see my neighbor, her hair frizzed out, her eyes bright.

"Sort of lonely, boring, and exhilarating, all at the same time?" I ask after placing my order.

Her small sparse tan naked body, rising and falling.

She looks at me, and nods, not saying anything, the implication now hanging between us, needing only a few more words to solidify.

Faster and faster.

"If that gets to be too much...", I add, the rest not needing to be said.

Her breasts flopping wildly.

"You know where the doorbell is," she finishes as I collect the ground beef and then "see you around," as my wife appears at the other end of the aisle.

My face, in profile, staring at her, devouring her spiritually, our mouths opening in one co-mingled almost silent prayer of thanks and pleasure.