A long time ago, when I was little, I remember seeing this tall woman. I knew she was tall, because I could see the top of her head outside of my bedroom window. I always saw her in the mornings before school, so I never had a chance to walk over and get a better look. There was something strange about her, too. She always sort of spooked me.
I could never see her eyes; just the hair on the top of her head.
Once, though, I was sick. Usually when it was a weekend or when I was sick she’d be gone, as if she knew I might look. But this time I threw up right before I was going to leave… to get on the bus. I can recall nausea as I went back into my room, and saw the top of her head just outside the window frame.
I crept over, and looked.
I only bring this up because a week ago I saw her again outside of the kitchen window. And while I looked away before I could really make out any of her features, I knew that she had risen high enough so that she could stare back at me.
And that’s why I’m not going to be staying in your apartment anymore, Madeline.
