the footsteps outside, they sounds like heels. six floors below, pounding out the sound of a woman determined. determined to do what, i don’t know. but she sounds like she’s walking away from something. before tonight, i’d never realized that the sound of a woman’s shoes on a cobblestone sidewalk could tell me so much.

on my stomach, the pillow over my head, right ear pressed to the mattress. i can hear her voice resonating through the springs below, the vibration reducing the words to nothing more than a mumble. the voice, unmistakable, but she’s not in the room.