Across The Way
From behind his desk, a man watches a woman across the way, drawn into a day of voyeurism that leaves him changed.
I don’t have much of a view from my desk. Just the face of another building, the kind with wide balconies that jut out from expensive-looking walls of floor-to-ceiling glass. It’s the kind of place that invites viewing, but I’d never seen anything worth looking at. Until this morning. She stepped out onto one of the balconies with a watering can in hand and her robe tied at the waist, the knot loose enough that it slipped...
