My room is very small. 2 metres by 2.75 metres. It is also 2.7 metres high, but since that dimension is satisfactory, I don’t usually mention it. Another thing I don’t usually mention is my window, and that is also because it is satisfactory.
Especially when it is sunny as it is these days I often lie on the window sill, which is at the same height as my bed. Sometimes I spend a long time there. I like my window because it faces south, which means that the sun sometimes comes to shine on my face while I lie. It would shine on me all the time I think if the row of houses opposite ours was not there, but these houses I cannot move. Beneath my window there is a road and there are people coming and going on it most of the day.
Among the exciting things I have seen from my window sill are four tesco vans, one from asda and one fridge delivery van, which it turned out was for me. I did not remember having ordered a fridge but when the man looked up at me I had no choice but to come down and accept it.
Another day I was dozing on the sill in a most reptilian manner, really all that was missing was me flicking my tongue out now and then to catch flies and wet my mouth. But I did not do this, because I am not a reptile. In this state I heard the door of next door close softly underneath me and saw a thin ladygirl with long black hair cross the road without looking around. This was only exciting to me because I had never seen anyone from next door, whose door is only separated from our door by a very thin wall of bricks (two bricks wide). I let my eyelids close, and I was happy because I had solved another mystery.
Ten minutes later the girl came back quickly. I lay with my head on my hand in the corner of the window frame and watched her. She went into her house and closed the door softly. The mystery was reopened, but I was basking, and so I was not interested.
Later, a boyman knocked on what I thought was my door. I looked down at his head. It was next door’s door. He waited for several minutes, and I wondered why he didn’t go away. I craned down and tried to read his texts. The door was opened.
“Are you going home?” asked a woman.
“No.” he said.
“Ok.” She closed the door.
He stood there. I hung out of my window a metre over his head. I pulled myself back in and rested a little.
Minutes later the door was opened from the inside again. A man said hello, the boyman said hello, and they went inside.