Cold and around 3am. I stand at the window of my room and look out into the sleeping neighborhood. From my second story vantage point I can see the black waves crashing in silver lining - hear their sighing. I take a long drag from my cigarette and pull the robe closer to my body. I hate night's like this - wallowing in fits of insomnia. It is so quiet. I glance down into the vacant rubbly lot adjacent to the house. I wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't moved.
He lay in the shadows on a tattered Mexican blanket - legs crossed, hands clasped across his chest as if lying in state. He reached slowly over to a green plastic bottle and took a swig of whatever liquid was inside. Long moments pass - I watch him. I watch - slowly smoking.
He gets up slightly stretching - I know, I think, that concrete can get mighty cold - he is tall and lanky with long black hair in waves, the obligatory goatee. His clothes are old and well worn. Dark skin that soak in the shadows. I watch. He slowly meanders around the lot - in and out of the shadows of the crumbling red brick walls that encircle the lot. He stops and then - as I watch - he creeps so slowly over to the window of another house facing the lot. Fingertips placed on stucco wall, he creeps up to the window and peers in - his shadow extending stretching and reaching the window before he does. He stands there - moments pass. I watch and I slowly take another drag.
Quickly he ducks down - pause - then slowly back up to the window. Moments pass and I watch as he peers into the pitch black window.
Slowly he turns and slinks back to his camp and takes another gulp of whatever is in that green plastic bottle. Then he slowly creeps back to the window and peers in. Moments pass. He tip-toes over to a part of the brick wall that is a meter high and straddles it - like a horse. He sits staring at the black window a few meters away. I watch. He peers at the window then unbuttons his pants and in the half light pulls out his erection. Slowly he caresses it, slowly his fingers glide around the head. He silently lifts himself off of the wall and with his erection swinging out in front of him he returns to the window. What does he see? A couple sleeping? A couple fucking? A small child snoring safely in her/his room? What is he looking at? I take another drag as he slinks up to the windows edge and peers in, one hand on the window sill the other messaging his cock.
Sirens wail and dogs bark as three police patrols hurl down the street and pass red and blue lights blasting and exploding across the lot. He ducks from the window and scampers over to his camp - in one swoop, he collects his little plastic bottle, a bag and blanket and escapes into the shadows of the night...