Listening to sounds of the man upstairs moving about, what is he wrangling with at this hour? And drunken men out in the street – why must their voices carry? Kidlet talked and talked, then fell asleep with a little sigh. I read another book today – The Stranger - that brings me to 12 remaining to meet my Goodreads goal for the year.
I always wonder what the people upstairs think of us! Can they even hear us?