I Do Hear Them Making Love

"Do you hear them having sex then?" he asks coyly tracing his finger along my lower back.

In my rented, one room flat, there is the difference of a single wall between my room and my neighbors'. Being an extremely antisocial person I have never actually met them yet.

But I hear them, yes. Every evening after coming from work they talk like two friends meeting after being separated for a long time; telling each other about their activities throughout the day. Then sometimes I hear them fight. A fire of heated arguments which would somehow suddenly get cooled down by the woman's laughter on something silly said by the man. I hear them being worried sometimes. I am not able to figure out the issue but every now and then I hear the man trying to calm the woman down while his own voice wavers like a ship amidst a fierce storm. I hear them getting ready for work in the mornings with music blaring loud from their television and both of them trying and failing badly to sync their own tunes with the song. At nights, sometimes, I hear the woman giggling and begging the man to stop as he continues to tickle her like some newly in love teenage couple. Then on the other times, I hear them whispering their hearts out to each other, imitating a stable, old age, forever lasting relationship.

"No, I don't," I say and watch him reaching out for his clothes and car keys. He came here an hour ago and was on me a few minutes ago. Just like every day, he winks, blows me a kiss and leaves shutting the door behind him.

And as I sit there with a bed sheet hugging my body, I wonder whether my neighbors hear me sob at night.