Ever since Joe Busick retired br he leaves the door to his apartment wide open br so that when I pass in front of it br to get to my place he rushes into the hall br and starts to speak br about three pairs of new shoes br he bought in an Italian shoe store br or the upcoming surgery on his left eye br to fix a cataract br or the person below trying to get him evicted br because he flushes the toilet br too many times, twelve I’ve been told, br always in rapid succession br or asks read any good books because he’s seen br my walls lined with them br from floor to ceiling br although his place doesn’t have a single one, br also no pictures, br the walls painted salmon pink. br I’ve never seen a soul enter his apartment. br Some days he actually sits in the hallway br waiting for words to happen. br He dyes his hair a reddish brown. br Four years ago a woman living in a private house br across the street accused him of masturbating br in front of his window, shades up. br The TV stays on all day now br played much too loudly br except when the door is open br or he’s perched in the hall.