The music was blasting across the alley way. An odd hypnotic beat that sent chills through my body as I thought of her swaying to the music. I had shared my music with her last night and now she was sharing hers.

My eyes were closed as I sprawled on the divan. Images of her based on that soft giggle and foreign accent, filled my mind

I suppose John must have thought I was trying to sleep or meditate when he came to do his services for the day. He immediately became livid that the loud ruckus was disturbing my rest.

I felt him rush past me to the window and start shouting at the girl to shut her “retched noise” off. I knew his French was falling upon deaf ears but the fact that he took such a tone with her enraged me.

I flung myself up and stumbled towards the window. Just as I caught John on the arm to pull him back, I heard her reply. “I’m sorry but I do not speak French. Does the music upset Pierre?” she sounded concerned.

Turning toward the voice, a smile spread across my face, “Not at all,” I called.