The Woman In the Window

He first noticed her about 3 months ago. She was stunning. She had just moved into the flat across the street and his bedroom window faced hers.

His flat was a one bedroom rabbit hutch compared to the new flats across the road. They were purpose built with big rooms with high ceilings, large lounge, fitted kitchen. The works. This is where she lived, the woman in the window.

His flat was just a share of a converted old three bed house, late Victorian. Tiny kitchen, 10 x 12 bedroom, bathroom and toilet that you couldn't piss in without hitting your hip against the wash basin. A real low life existence.

So there was no hope, lets face it, why would she ever look at him. Him in his shit hole and her in her luxury apartment.

The only time he saw her was when she was at her window. These past few weeks had been hot, too hot for this time of year. She had started opening her bedroon window to let some fresh air in and he had spotted her. He wasn't a bloody Peeping Tom of course, there was nothing like that going on. But from his window he could see her sitting on her bed reading. She was beautiful.

He started to think about how she spoke, what she sounded like when she laughed. Built up a picture of her in his head, what her favourite colours were, what did she like to eat, what sort of clothes did she wear?

In his mind he imagined her as vegetarian, not sure why that was but she was nice and slim and had pale white skin. Yes vegetarian was the answer. He thought she would like plain shoes not great big stillettos that made some girls look like tarts. She would wear expensive clothes though, well made, sort that would last a lifetime. She would wear perfume but it would be very english, she would smell like an english rose. Sweet with a hint of flowers.

Her job would be as a P.A. to a Chairman of a massive company, she would be well organised and without her he wouldn't be able to function.

She would have a quiet voice with a subtle english accent, probarly Surrey.

She would laugh out loud at silly jokes and be shy if someone said something rude.

Yes, he had a full picture in his mind.

Then, this morning came and he was still in shock. He had gone out to get the Sunday papers and when he returned he saw an ambulance outside her flat, there was a Police car there as well. A crowd had gathered and people were all rushing about.

He saw them take her body away, that stunning body, his beloved Woman in the Window. The crowd were saying that she had died of an overdose of Heroin. Her flat was a mess of empty cans and bottles and she had been living in squalor for months.

If only he could have spoken with her, cuddled her, stroked her hair. He was sure he could have save his Woman in the Window!