With another month of quarantine ahead, Dillon is depressed. Stuck with no one to talk to but the squirrel who visits his terrace for snacks, he's pretty sure June is going to suck. One morning, things start looking up when a pride flag appears on the terrace railing right across from his.<br><br>Kit is up from downstate for just a month. He and Dillon hit it off and find a way to make the best of social distancing and the clothesline that runs from one building to the other. They even celebrate Pride and other occasions with their neighbors and spend some intimate moments together, despite being so far apart.<br><br>As much fun as June turns out to be, what happens when Kit's short stay is over? Are the two only enjoying a brief summer fling? Will even more distance between them mean the end of everything?

Let's Hang Out

“Not twenty thousand,” he said to me over the phone. “But until we make it to the Eiffel Tower for real…”


“This is the next best thing.” Leaning against my terrace railing, when I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine us floating upon Lake Geneva, down the Thames, or along the Seine. It was sweet, romantic, and frustrating. If only I could hold his hand. The closest we could get was our jackets from the wedding doing it on the clothesline.


“In real life, that clothespin would pinch by now,” Kit said.


Part of me wondered if we would have broken quarantine rules if Kit weren’t a medical professional, at high risk and on the front lines.


I got most of our neighbors to help celebrate him for that the last Tuesday in June.


I projected it onto the sheet in a rainbow of colors, and nearly every resident of both buildings cheered and banged pots and pans for him at seven P.M.


Chapter 10