Porch Moment

A man came out on the 4th floor porch across the street. He wore a wool herringbone cabbie cap. He sat and lit a cigarette. A cold rain was falling. He opened a paperback and began to read. I watched while sipping my soup. He coughed and then took out a blue plastic bottle of nose drops and inhaled. He kept reading and I kept watching. Maybe he's reading Dostoevsky, I thought. I hope so.