The balcony above our patio is devoid of personal belongings; no chairs, or barbecue, or plants. The blinds to the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony are continually shut. I’ve never seen anyone going in or out of it. My ceiling is silent during the day. But, in the night, the stomping begins. I would swear someone is up there playing dance dance revolution.
Needless to say, I cannot wait to catch a glimpse of this night-dancing phantom.
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