The life I meet — 2012/06/12

To get to my kitchen, I invariably walk past the back door, which offers a view to the neighbors. I look around, spying. There are new students, on the second floor, a gay couple no doubt, there are the neighbors on the ground floor with their son who lost his fat and now is rolling his biceps. In the summer, he is usually in his underwear and displays his new weapons.