became a part of my workdays. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t call myself a nosy person. But ten years of witnessing this daily ritual chipped away at my restraint.The human mind craves answers, and the unanswered question of “what do they do for those fifteen minutes?” gnawed at me. One particularly slow Wednesday afternoon, the itch of curiosity became unbearable. I was hunched over my laptop, editing a website when the familiar rumble of the car engine reached my ears.My chair creaked as I rose, drawn to the window like a moth to a flame. Through the glass, I watched Mike and Jill step out of their silver sedan. They shared a quick kiss before heading inside.I instantly looked at the wall clock. It was 4 p.m. Everything was normal except one thing. Instead of the usual blackout routine where all curtains were drawn, only one remained open. It was like an unspoken invitation, calling me to see what was happening inside their house. You have only 15 minutes, I thought as Ihouse. You have only 15 minutes, I thought as I rushed towards my front door.Once I judged no one was looking at me, I made a beeline for the open window.Upon reaching there, I looked around once again and was relieved to know none of the neighbors were watching me.
At that point, my common sense screamed at me to retreat, but the years of built-up curiosity roared louder. Stretching on my tiptoes, I strained to see over the windowsill. Their living room was just like any other. In the center, Mike stood with a professional camera in his hands. His back was towards me, but Jill stood facing him, a soft smile playing on her lips.Just as I stretched on my tiptoes for a better view, a flicker of movement at the edge of the room caught my eye. That was when I realized Mike was also looking directly at me. Our eyes met, and I simply fell as his wife shouted, “Someone’s there! Someone’s peeking inside!” No, no, no! I thought. This can’t be happening! I had to run back to my house before Mike or Jill came outside.
