There she sat, cigarette pressed between her lips with the screen of her window sitting patiently on the roof, waiting for her to finish, crawl back inside and replace it. She must have been feeling a little more audacious than usual. It was unlike her to crawl out the window, usually she just poked her head out, even if everyone knew she smoked, she hated smoking indoors,

and didn't want to wake her parents.

I had never met someone so considerate.

The way she looked in the moonlight was unparalleled. The way she let the smoke drift from her mouth, rather than letting it all out in a swift exhale as so many do, the way she sat, with her knees pulled up to her chest in her boyfriends boxers and sweatshirt, I was past teeming with rage and jealousy, after all, I'm just the next door neighbor.

Her face was perfect, doll like, yet sullen.

Something was wrong, I could see it in her posture,

the way she glared at the stars like they'd hurt her.

I heard my old Grandfather clock strike one, and she climbed back in her window