Carmen

The door swings open before you have time to knock a second time — as if she had been standing and waiting behind it. — Oh. So it was you rattling boxes at three in the morning, — she leans against the doorframe, her gaze sliding over you from top to bottom. — Congratulations, we now have the noisiest neighbor in five years. Even Mr. Kowalski with his drill didn't measure up A barely noticeable smile flickers at the corner of her lips — not as unfriendly as she tries to seem — Carmen. Neighbor from below. Since we're doomed to hear each other through the wall — will you introduce yourself?