The Life of the Party

I feel as if I’m in the movie “Rear Window.” I’m sitting at my desk gawking out my apartment window instead of working on my novel. How can I concentrate when there’s a building across from me with windows easily accessible for one to spy?

The room through the top window is empty. The left wall is painted purple, the door with the half-moon window is white and the right wall next to the door light blue. What are these people thinking? Or is it the landlord who has hideous taste?

The room through the second window underneath has no movement either. Again, what are they thinking? Red walls, a white door and a lit light, with a grey wall to the right. No sense of decorum.

So far, I’m bored, until I hear noise coming from the room through the third window below. Ah, inside the walls all match. It’s a deeper blue than the first room, it’s fully furnished with a coffee table, a picture on the wall that I can’t see clearly, a television, a room full of happy guests drinking, eating and laughing. Now I’m envious. I want to join in, but I have to get this novel in to my agent within the week.

Wait, is this her? It is! It’s my girlfriend Tammy and she’s chortling with another man. I’m supposed to be her man! I’m better looking than him. He’s thin and short, I’m muscular and tall. Do I go over there and confront her? Then she’ll know I’m spying. Wait, she’s leaving and he’s staying.

I’m stressing so I grab a beer out of the refrigerator and gulp it down. I go back to my desk and stare at the blank computer screen. I can’t get the image out of my head. A few minutes pass and there’s a knock on my door.

The Life of the Party

“Hey, Mike, are you home? It’s Tammy. I just came from work; do you want to go out for a drink?”

I wish I didn’t see the darn party.