the accidental eavesdropper.

one of the mixed blessings of my apartment is its location on the ground floor of the building. i have a private entrance, a rarity in the city, so i can get the dogs in and out without being a nuisance to other tenants. but although it's east-facing, i don't get a lot of sunlight, it being blocked by the buildings across the street.

now that spring is in the air and it's getting warmer outside, i've been opening my windows, four of which face the sidewalk. so i get to hear a lot of conversation snippets as people walk by. they're usually pretty trite, as i guess most conversation is, but sometimes i'll get lucky and hear something that makes me laugh. and then there are the times when i feel like i'm hearing things i shouldn't, things that are meant only for the person to whom they're directed. just now, for example:

he: "i can say that."
she: "no, you can't say that. you want to know why?"
he: "why?"
she: "because for three months, i cried every day. so, no, you cannot say that i was happy."

i felt bad for overhearing, though to be fair these people weren't exactly keeping it down.
but mostly i just felt bad for them. bad for her, obviously, for having been so unhappy for such a long time. and for him, too, because it must hurt to find out now that he was so wrong or so blind or so whatever that he just couldn't see the truth.

there's still time; hopefully another passerby will lighten the mood tonight.


Anonymous said...

Overheard in New York isn't all fun and games.

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