The Week Before Christmas

An ode to the neighbor upstairs

David Schultz on Unsplash

It was the week before Christmas and all through the flat, the AC unit was busted, and central air was scant. The shot glasses sat sticky on the shelf with care, so that the cat couldn’t knock them onto the rug with hair. I was scrubbing out an egg pan when there arose a loud foot patter, from outside the door, I had to go see the matter. I answered the door and there she stood, in yoga…