Short Story: The old man

I glanced at my phone. Two missed calls. (JP/Budhi Button) I glanced at my phone. Two missed calls. The clock showed it was 2 a.m. Yet, I was barely able to sleep — thanks to the old man who lived in apartment 1401 on the 5th floor. An apartment opposite my building whose windows weren’t curtained and faced right onto my apartment. Every 2 a.m. until sunrise, that old man would turn on his ridiculously bright lamp. He had been doing that for a week now. I was unable to get to sleep after working at night. Or suddenly it would disturb my sleep. I tried to put up a curtain, but it didn’t work. The light was too bright. It shone through my apartment window and reached my bed. To make matters worse, every night with his light turned on he would stand near the window. His shadow made it even harder for me to sleep. One day I took a peek from behind my curtain. I saw him stand near his apartment window with a phone in his hand, as usual. He was wearing a suit. Yes, a suit. It seemed like he couldn’t take his eyes […]

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