The opera in the window

The woman leaned on the window and looked across the river. The wind blew faintly from the river, and it felt no different than usual. She lived on the penultimate floor of the penthouse, the street was far below, and even the noise of the cars coming and going on the road rarely reached here. Just as the woman was about to turn away from the window, she suddenly noticed that the light in the old man's room across the street had been turned on at some point. It was not yet late, it was still bright outside, and the light in the old man's room was not obvious, it felt like a street light on under the sun, or like a candle lit by someone at the window in a brightly lit church.

The woman stood still.

The old man opened the window and nodded his head this way.

Is he greeting me? The woman thought to herself. The upper floor of the house she lived in was empty, and the lower floor was a factory, which was closed at this time. The woman then nodded slightly in response to the old man. The old man nodded again and reached to remove his hat, but suddenly realized that he did not have a hat on his head. The old man turned and disappeared into the back of the room.

Soon, the old man appeared in front of the window again. This time, he had an extra hat on his head and a coat added to his body. He took off his hat and greeted the woman with a smile. Then he took out a white handkerchief from his pocket and began to wave it. At first, it was gentle, then, more and more intense. He leaned over the window sill so that one had to fear for him that his whole body would fall out of the window. The woman took a step back in some consternation.

At that moment, the old man across the window raised his hand and flung the hat far away from his hand. At the same time, he put the scarf on top of his head, just like a Muslim man, and wrapped his head up. Then, he crossed his arms, closed them in front of his chest and began to bow. Each time he lifted his head, his left eye was closed, as if he was sending some secret message to the woman between the two of them. The woman watched all this with interest until she suddenly noticed that two legs in narrow, patched velvet pants appeared in the window. The old man was doing a handstand! When his red, sweaty and giddy face reappeared in front of the window, the woman finally called the police station.

The old man still didn't stop. Draped in a sheet, he alternated between the two windows. The police station three streets away received the call from the woman, who was somewhat incoherent and sounded so agitated on the phone that the police officers had no idea what was going on. At the moment, the old man across the street was laughing even harder, with wrinkles piling up on his face. He stretched out a hand, made a vague gesture, wiped it on his face, and then the smile disappeared from his face, as if, his smile had been instantly clenched in his hand. The woman stood by the window watching all this until the police car arrived downstairs.

The woman ran downstairs panting. Many people had gathered around the police car. A group of people followed the police and the woman upstairs, and several even followed them to the last stairway. They gathered together and waited curiously - first someone came up and knocked on the door, no one answered; then rang the doorbell, still no answer. As trained police officers, it was not difficult to open a door - it was quickly and cleanly opened. Down the narrow hallway, they finally caught a faint light at the end of the corridor. The woman tiptoed, following closely behind the police. When the door leading to the inner room was opened, only to see the old man with his back to them, still standing by the window. He was holding a large white pillow in both hands, placing it on his head and taking it down again, repeating it over and over again. The look was as if he was telling someone that he was going to bed. And he had a rug draped over his shoulders. The crowd had almost reached behind him, the old man still did not turn around - this old man's hearing has been very dull. The woman's eyes crossed the old man and looked across the street, and she saw the dim window of her house.

Just as she had thought, the factory on the floor below was closed. However, on the roof of her house, a young couple had moved in at some point. Next to the window in their room, there was a child's bed surrounded by a railing. A little boy was standing in it.

This child also had a pillow on his head and a bed sheet draped over his body. He kept jumping on the bed, waving his hands in this direction and babbling. First he smiled, then, wiped his hand on his face, then his face became serious, as if he had clutched his smile in his hand in a second. Immediately afterwards, the little boy stretched out his hand and with all his strength threw the smile in his hand into the faces of all the dumbfounded people.