On the phone, she hears the untwisting of a cap. Metal against glass. She hears him gulp; large, even-spaced gulps. The cap is twisted back on, like a sword cutting through air. He sighed. She missed him.
And later, alone, she watches lovers walk like monsters, retreat behind closed doors. She shuts the window she had been swinging out of, resting her forehead on the cool glass. Turns around to painfully finish her now nauseatingly lukewarm green tea. Watches the shadow of the unlit lamp on the locked door. Somewhere, a dress is being unzipped, and she can't help but wonder why it can't be hers.