Welcome to my window well!

So I walk into my office after class and find: a body.

Not a dead body. What do you think this is, CSI? If this were CSI, I would be surrounded by tall, slender, stylishly dressed people who keep whipping off their sunglasses and making dramatic statements; instead, I'm surrounded by ordinary-looking people who don't even wear sunglasses to work because we work in a basement, not a crime lab or a morgue. Although, come to think of it, the basement is not without its morgue-esque qualities (morgue-iness?): it's dank, dark, and musty enough for any morgue, and some of my students do a pretty good impersonation of a corpse in class.

But I digress. 

The body I found in my office was not dead and neither was it, technically in my office. It was sitting in the window well where it would be blocking the sun if we had any sunshine today instead of this horrid dank dark musty cold wintery rainy mess. 

When I first looked up up up, far above my head to my tiny dungeon window, I thought that someone had left a pile of discarded clothes right in my window well, but then it moved. It's alive! But who is it? Nondescript beige jacket, vague gray hat, basic working-man apparel. Homeless person? My window well can't be a particularly comfy place to hang out, so maybe it's one of the tree-removal dudes busily deleting a row of ash trees right next to my building. But why would anyone take a break in my window well others are available closer to the road?

Then I notice: he's smoking. I know a smoker who wears that coat and that hat! It's one of my colleagues seeking shelter from the rain while he takes a smoke break. I call out his name but he can't hear (who knew the glass was that thick?), and he's facing away from the window so he can't see me. I could throw something up there to get his attention, but what would I say? "You're blocking my sun?" There isn't any.

I don't begrudge him a little shelter from the storm--in fact, basic human decency demands that I provide a more hospitable welcome. I ought to equip my window well with a little rug or a soft cushion--or, better yet, heat and light, cheery yellow walls painted with birds, a sturdy desk and comfy chair. If the window well were more like my office, I'd be tempted to hang out there myself!