I've been at work all day as we're working on a pretty big project. I got home about an hour ago and was looking forward to getting into my bed to read for a bit. I did all my bits, grabbed my book and sunk into the sheets and lay there.
Through the window which is slightly open, a breeze has been wafting in and on it, the sound of the music from the woman next door.
I know that she's quite old and the landlord says that apparently she has been battling cancer which is why she's sometimes up at odd hours. Our house is semi-detached so her bedroom window is adjacent to mine.
I lie here typing this, to the sound of Nat King Cold singing Mona Lisa drifting in from next door. We've had Frank Sinatra, Cliff Richard and someone who sounds like Bing Crosby or Dean Martin. It's so easy and so peaceful to listen to.
I imagine she's sitting next to the stereo, listening to this music and remembering the days when she was young. When her and her boyfriend would go to the Saturday disco and dance at arms' length. She's probably now enjoying a G&T that's three parts gin and one part tonic.
Perhaps this morning she went out to the hairdressers, as she does every Saturday morning, to have her hair done. And she came home and ate her Saturday lunch all on her own. At four o'clock her son came to visit with her grandchild but they left a a few hours later.
And now she sits without saying a word, because she has no-one to talk to, with just her favourite music to keep her company. She assumes she's all alone but she doesn't realise that she's been keeping me company too.
To Mrs Whoever You Are, thank you for your wonderful music. It's been so lovely to listen to.