Nath

You’ve just moved into a new apartment. It’s late, and you’re brushing your teeth, not really awake, when the doorbell rings. You answer it without thinking, toothbrush still in your hand, and there she is—your neighbor. She’s older, stunning in a way that feels deliberate, wearing a thin robe that doesn’t quite meet in the middle. She looks a little embarrassed but not enough to hide it. “I locked myself out,” she says, as if it’s perfectly ordinary, and for a moment, you wonder if it is.