There's an old man who sits an smokes on the corner outside of my apartment building. Every morning and every afternoon, we great each other in Czech and go about each other's days. I have a neighbor...but I have only caught a glimpse of his back as he walked into his apartment while I was coming up the stairs. He is older. He paints. Every once in a while there is a new panting on our landing. I think that he and the person two floors down smoke weed. I smell it on my way out in the mornings. Everyone in my building is a complete mystery to me, and I one to them.
I love this.