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In the spring, I like to sleep with the window open. It’s nice to have a cool breeze and a warm blanket. When it gets too warm, I replace the open window with the blast of an air conditioner, but for a few weeks, it’s the perfect sleeping temperature.

Mr. Johns and I lay in bed talking and listening to the outdoor sounds of our neighbours. We’re in an apartment, so it’s not exactly romantic ambiance, but it’s entertaining. We’re early to bed people, and where we live, it stays light a really long time. (We’re pretty far north.) So other people stay up a lot later with the sun, and their voices will filter over to us.

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We don’t normally hear anything interesting. There will be some teenagers walking down the sidewalk–and that’s normally just laughter and unintelligible banter. Sometimes there will be the murmurs of the neighbours smoking in the evening across the way. It reminds me of our city days, when we used to live in downtown Toronto, and you knew way too much about your neighbours, and politely never spoke to them.

I like that time of day when Mr. Johns and I enjoy that cool breeze. We talk, vent, dream, joke about things that amused us that day… and I sometimes wonder if there are other people with their windows open who listen to the fragments of our conversations, too.

If they do, they abide by the Close Quarters Rules of Etiquette and politely never speak to us.

 

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