There is something comforting about being able to hear my neighbor taking a shower through our living room window. Though I don't know that he ... or she ... really classifies as a neighbor since he ... or she ... lives in the adjacent building, and we share neither hallways nor downstairs door keys, but simply windows into a narrow alley. But we must commonly recognize the sounds of living on the fifth floor - the drip of an air conditioner, pigeons on the roof, the male opera singer who lives a floor below us.
I'm not sure if our faceless living-room-window neighbors are both "hes" or "shes" because we can only see the lower halves of their bodies through their half-curtained bedroom windows and sometimes we see a male and sometimes we see a female. We are only certain that it's a roommate situation, and one bedroom - for sure - is that of a girl.
But it is a comfort nonetheless to hear their lives happening next door.
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