For years we had our wing of the building all to ourselves. Despite the many apartments off our stairwell, we were the only permanent residents. The apartment between us had been empty for months.
The silver car and a large van appeared in the car park and silent eyes watched her every move.
She and her mates unloaded despite the wind and rain.
The same silent eyes absorbed the sounds of her moving and unpacking. Later, silent footsteps observed the heaps of discarded packing materials waiting to be taken downstairs. And over dinner that evening, we mutely agreed that our freedom was gone forever, made a memory by the young woman who had come between us.
Dedicated to Dan, my oppo, who sadly passed too early in 2014.