Sabine turned to the loud noise at the window behind her sofa.
Bonk!
Peering over the back of the Ethan Allen leather love seat, she gazed out through the single pane of glass. Outside was a bucolic evening along the urban cul-de-sac. Wind bristled the resilient leaves on the trees and no one was on standing fallen along the pavement.
There was no one outside. No one near her third story window.
Sabine returned her book and some semblance of peace.
But as she focused on the words printed before her, thoughts of blurred across letters, making them illegible.
This was not the first time she heard that sound. It was not the first time her heard that sound sitting this chair. With this book, even.
Was it a bird, gliding into the window's reflection of the free skies above? Or an errant piece of the tree outside falling to the earth, catching the window pane on the way down?
Sabine glanced back at the portal behind her, to confirm there was no mark on the window. She had to think of her security deposit.
There was no mark on the window. No sign of the sound's origin.
Again, Sabine returned to her book. And again, she read it but did not take in a single word.
Was there injured bird on the ground outside? Or maybe a fallen branch along the walkway to the street? Would her desire to relax cost her in the morning should she find either in the morning?
I could have saved that bird! Sabine thought. Or helped Mrs Latchman on the ground floor get around the tree debris. That poor woman doesn't have anyone in the area to help her. Her kids live out of state. Ohio? something like that.
Sabine rose from her seat and grabbed her full length sweater jacket. It was like 40 degrees outside.
With her keys stuffed in her jeans, Sabine stepped out onto the third floor landing in the dark stairwell. The old floorboards creaked with every step. As she approached the top of the steps, she had vivid flash of catastrophe: Falling down the stairs and breaking her neck. Did she slip? Or did she trip over the knitting of her jacket?
Just to be safe, Sabine gingerly stepped down the stairs, holding on the banister with a vice-like grip.
As she round the second floor landing, the motion-sensor caught sight of Sabine and illuminated the hallway before her. She was grateful, but the lights positioned created a strange effect. As turned to the next set of steps, the illumination contrasted with the darkness below, as if she was descending into an eerie, eldritch zone.
Squeezing the wooden banister tight, Sabine waved wildly at the motion sensor to illuminate the steps before her. She nearly lost her footing in the gamble and decided to continue into the void.
Step by step she descended, slowly unto the vestibule. The building was quite homey and warm in the light. But, painted black the hallway was a cold as an loving mother.
Sabine stood in the vestibule at the bottom of the steps.
I made it! she thought. A rather pathetic thought she would later recount. Sabine was a grown women, able and free of malady. She had no reason to fear stepping outside her own apartment. Let alone to investigate a strange sound.
As she walked to front door, the entryway exploded in light; Sabine turned to the motion sensor and flipped it the bird.
Sabine opened the heavy front door and joined the evening scene: Fallen leaves covered the lawn and walkway to the street. The dark blue sky was brushed with whisps of clouds, which covered the bright waning moon.
Sabine examined the walkway. No branch. No twig or nut. Just a layer of leaves. She walked below her third floor window and surveyed nothing amiss. Further, there was no object or creature in need of her care.
It wasn't satisfying to Sabine, who had scared herself into investigating a bonk at the window like it was the Kennedy assassination. She felt stupid for sure.
So Sabine decided to make this excursion about viewing the beautiful autumn night. There was a strange satisfaction watching the still darkness of the sky as the stretches of thin clouds ran across it. Sabine wondered what to make of it. What did her ancestors make of it when they moved to New England? Did they stare at the sky in wonder, after searching out a bump in the night?
Suddenly, Sabine remembered something the Zen master at the Buddhist temple downtown said her when she was considering meditation classes. "The moment you are ready to leave," he said, "...is the moment you stay."
Sabine smiled at the odd recollection. This night was a beautiful accident to her evening at home. She would have stayed bundled on her couch, reading a book, insulated from the gorgeousness of the nature outside her window.
Maybe the noise drove her outside was the night itself, beckoning her to join it.
Sabine smiled. She had worse dates.
As the air cooled, Sabine finally relented and said her goodbyes to her twilight suitor. As stepped through the portal back inside and, without thinking, whispered "I love you." As the door closed behind her, she thought she heard the night say it too.
Sabine walked up the stairs when Mrs Latchman opened her front door.
Sabine waved hello. The old woman looked at her, confused.
"Is everything okay?" Sabine asked.
The old woman clasped her dressing gown. "Didn't you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Mrs Latchman waved hear hand. "Nothing. Probably just the wind."
The old woman returned to her apartment as did Sabine. Placing her sweater back on the hanger, she wondered if she should return to her book or just go to bed.
A little of both, Sabine decided: reading in bed.
She fell asleep beneath the covers, the pages steepled over her chest, and the night peering through the window, watching over her.
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