Last night at 11:18pm Jessica and I were sitting in the living room, intermittently chatting as she finished applications for grad school and I determinedly stared at the same massive novel I’ve been staring at/attempting to read for four months now.
The unmistakable sound of a loud round of applause, coming from outside the apartment, roused us from our pastimes. We looked at each other. “Huh,” we said.
A minute later a loud, unintelligible conversation began. Our dining room window was open, amplifying the noise. “Are they drunk?” Jess asked.
Silence reigned for a few minutes and we went back to our respectably quiet evening activities. But then a second round of applause had me jumping from the couch to run to the window. I peeked down from my third-floor vantage point.
Six people were ranged in a half-circle facing the door of our apartment building. It was approaching 11:30pm on a Monday night and they were clapping at apparently nothing. A minute later, they disbanded, fading into the night without a word, as if they had never been there at all.
I sat back down on the couch and picked up my book. “We’re never going to know why that happened,” I said.
“Nope,” Jess agreed.