Water Running in the Empty Unit

the unit below mine has been empty since february. the landlord told me himself, between tenants, he's been trying to rent it. i've watched no one come and no one go. the windows down there stay dark.

tonight there's water running.

not dripping. running, the specific shudder the old pipes do when a tap's full open, the same sound my own sink makes, coming up through the floor under my feet. i stood on the cold tile in my kitchen at 2am with my bare foot over the spot where it's loudest and i listened to someone, somewhere i've been told is empty, run a tap like they had all the time in the world.

i told myself: squatter. that's a real thing, that happens, that's the boring answer and the boring answer is almost always right. i even felt better for a second.

then it stopped. and the floor went quiet. and i realized i'd been standing there long enough that whoever turned it off had had time to hear me too, my one loose board by the stove, my breathing, the way the quiet from up here must travel down just as easy as theirs travels up.

i haven't moved. neither have they. we're both just standing in our kitchens now, listening for the other one to.