After a long day working on the movie, I arrived home to the sounds of heated lovemaking. A woman's disembodied voice bounced off the exterior walls of this U-shaped building. Always the good girl, I rushed to my windows hoping for a voyeuristic moment. No luck. Sound was all I got. The woman grunted, shouted, let fly surprised-sounding cries.
Lucky. I envied the couple and tried to imagine who they were. The Eastern European night doorwoman and a young tenant recently from Wisconsin? An old man and a whore overselling her excitement? Cracked-out gangsters who fell in love five minutes before over a glowing glass pipe in the alley? A Loyola student working off mid-term stress with her hometown boy come to visit for the weekend?
Whoever they were, they were lucky to be making such noisesome whoopee on a Monday night in this dirty, beautiful town, five hundred yards from the Lake.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment