The Warmest Window in Port Sola

Port Sola climbed the hill above its harbor in narrow terraces. At night, most houses vanished except for their windows.

From the end of the pier, Matteo could see one window higher than the others, square and amber beneath a dark roof. He did not know who lived there. He imagined a table, a kettle, and two chairs, one of them holding a folded coat.

A fishing boat shifted against its rope. The window stayed where it was, neither brighter nor dimmer.

Matteo walked back toward the harbor steps. He did not try to find the house. It was pleasant to leave one warm room somewhere above the town, complete without being entered.