Lana hardly ever leaves her apartment.
She likes to get up early and open the
window while the silence is still outside.
She lives on the other side of the avenue, on
the seventh floor, just like me. Every day she
sings softly. Her songs are sentimental
and I have come to know them by heart.
I think she is in love. Women always sing
when they are in love, and some of them
even forget to turn off their bedside light.
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