(This is a selection from my book Hot Naked Tits, which you can buy here.)
One morning he looked in his neighbor’s window and saw a picture of his own cat.
The guy had his blinds closed like always. But today a computer monitor was pressed up by the window and the slats were pushed aside. There was a narrow triangle of open glass, enough to see in the apartment. It was stacked high with crap. Old books and magazines. Old art on the walls. Prints of Hudson River Valley school paintings cut out of a coffee table book, taped to the drywall. Certificates and degrees, too far away to read, yellowed, askew in cheap frames. And a picture of his cat. It too was framed. A foot high. iPhone picture, pixellated a little. Fluffykins regarded the camera with a dead mockingbird in his mouth. Continue reading