by Lydia Davis

Last night Mildred, my neighbor on the floor below, masturbated with an oboe. The oboe wheezed and squealed in her vagina. Mildred groaned. Later when I thought she was finished, she started screaming. I lay in bed with a book about India. I could feel her pleasure pass up through the floor boards into my room. Of course there might be another explanation for what I heard. Perhaps it was not the oboe, but the player of the oboe who was penetrating Mildred. or perhaps Mildred was striking her small nervous dog with something slim and musical.Mildred who screams lives below me. Three young women from Connecticut live above me. Then there is a lady pianist with two daughters on the parlor floor and some lesbians in the basement. I am a sober person, a mother, and i like to go to bed early-but how can i lead a regular life in this building? it is a circus of vaginas leaping and prancing: thirteen vaginas and only one penis, my little son.