The character of Louisa Cordova lives her days with purpose. Yesterday, in fact, she looked out the window a total of 17 times. The span of what she can see is limited, and she has to stay hidden behind the heavy, hunter green colored curtain. If the neighbors saw her looking out, they might wave at her the first time. But if they saw her again on the hour like clock work, they’ll start to wonder why she’s there at all. She can’t risk the neighbors knowing that she’s so interested in what they’re doing–that would be embarrassing. The other reason she’s at the window is because she has to keep an eye on her husband, Ed. She knows he’s up to something because he’s avoiding her. It probably has something to do with the 40-year-old woman that lives across the street–Gail. Sure, Gail sometimes brings over tacos or pan dulce (sweet bread), but what’s really her reason for doing that?

When Ed is in Louisa’s window span, she can see him waving to esta mujer con la piernas largas y pantalones cortos (the woman with the long legs and the short shorts) with a stupid smile on his face. To make things worse, his waving gesture is so exaggerated–like a kid flagging down the icecream truck because his abuela (grandpa) just gave him $0.75 for a raspa (a snowcone).

“Keep it in your pants!” She wants to yell to her husband.

“Put on some clothes!” She wants to yell to her neighbor.

But a Mexican woman screaming out the window at people who appear innocently going about their days is not becoming. She is in control. She will only yell at Ed when he’s in the house and no one can hear her but him. And she will only yell at Gail in her mind and her dreams. In her dreams, Louisa squashes her into the grass–the “lush” (that’s what Ed calls it) grass that her husband takes such good care of these days.

Inspired by a character development question in The Dramatic Writer’s Companion by Will Dunne.