a fly between the wall

There’s a young man who lives in the apartment next door to me.  The walls in my dining room press up against a lively room of his.  The walls are thin and sometimes, when I am sitting in here, I can hear him sneeze.  I say bless you when he does.  Maybe he can hear me when I’m sitting here late at night singing to myself, or crying all alone.  But what I am listening for, is the chance to hear him laugh. He has the most beautiful and joyous laugh I have heard in a long time.  I love to hear him laugh.  Because he sounds so happy.  And because he reminds me of my long lost friends.