Musings from an Inn…

As I sit in a cozy chair by the window of my Inn (the only one near the outlet) patiently waiting for the mess the airlines made of my flights to be sorted out, I’ve stumbled upon a bit of mystery.

I just looked out through the film of the gauze curtain and realized I’m about 50 feet from a building across the street, and just a few lights are on in there.  I can see a person move around the room, and as I draw the gauze back, I feel like a spy or a voyeur, looking across a misty alley into someone else’s life.  As I watch, the light flicks off, and I drop the curtain.  Then the light comes on in the next room; someone’s going to bed after being in the living room or kitchen; were they doing the dishes, filling out a crossword, calling a lover?  Both of these window have curtains.  Two floors up, a florescent light blares without curtains to soften it, and no one moves.

This just begs for some Gershwin, not the tinny Mozart playing from my IPhone.  The person in the curtained room could be a lonely widower, or a sleep-deprived writer who is just pages from the next great novel.   The florescent room could house a workaholic, a chain-smoking trader or ad man who is avoiding his wife by claiming important work.  Or a social worker, poring over case files each night, trying to find a way to help another lost child.

Or, even more curiously, someone could be watching me type with his/her own imaginary soundtrack playing, and he/she should be imagining that I’m writing the next great novel.

The florescent lights have gone off, and I’m still on hold.  I guess I have the airlines to thank for this little moment of mystery.   Sleep well, world, and take a moment to think about what your neighbors across the street might be creating or dreaming tonight.  It’s fun little journey.

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