He was a small man clinging to a small hope.  He felt like a fool, standing
some five stories above the street.  Under him, the fire escape shook
ferociously in the wind.  The rain pelted his head and neck, water rolling
down the small of his back.  He shivered.

Yellow light flickered softly through the small window next to which he knelt.
He shook with anticipation as he crawled toward it, scraping his knee on the
rough steel bars.  Stifling a curse, he examined his knee.  Warm rain water
washed away the blood as fast as it welled out of the wound.  He pressed it
with his hand to stop the stinging.

Through the window, he could see a candle burning.  Nearing the window, he
could hear the woman talking.  He tried to make out her muffled words.  Even
through the glass, her voice was soft and gentle.  He pressed his ear to the
window, straining to understand.  She stopped speaking, and he shrank back as
the man's voice reached his ears.  His voice was deep and hoarse, but he spoke
quietly, answering her tenderly.

The small man crouched low by the window, hugging the wall to avoid the rain.
Slowly, he lifted his head again, peering over the window sill and into the
room.  He could clearly see the white candle, burning in an old fashioned iron
holder.  Beyond the candle, he saw the woman and the man.  She sat on the
floor, her legs crossed in front of her.  He imagined himself holding her,
kissing her.  He could feel the silk of her night shirt in his hand, and
beneath that, the curve of her hips.  In his mind, she kissed him back, and
holding his face in her hands, she stared into his eyes.  She could look into
the depths of him.  He cursed at himself and at the rain and at the fire
escape which shook beneath him, but mostly he cursed at the man who sat in the
candlelit room with his hand on the woman's shoulder.  The man with the deep
voice was sitting behind her, whispering into her ear, smelling her hair,
caressing her shoulders.

The small man sat crying at the window.  He felt the rain warm on his face and
on his back.  His tears mixed with the water on his face and ran into his
mouth.  Salt was bitter on his tongue.  He watched the woman and the man until
the candle burned down.  He watched the dark window until he heard a dog bark
somewhere.  Then he went home.

-gm