Night Voices

The way my apartment building is set up I can see and hear people in mine and the other apartment buildings. There are three of them, identical, in a U-shape, with a car park in the middle. I walk in the front door of my apartment then out the other side, out the door and onto the small balcony. Below is the carpark, one storey down. If I jumped off the balcony, I would probably only break my ankles.
Anyway, most nights I end up sitting here in front of the computer next to the window and door of the balcony, and I hear sounds that come in from outside.
Across the other side of the car park is another building identical to mine, and when I look out and left there is the third identical apartment bulding, but at right angles to the other two, making the U-shape. To the right is the street.
Every night, sounds of the people who live in these apartment buildings bounce back and forth between them, somehow amplified in the still night air.
Lately, mostly late at night, I hear the man on a level above in my building, his voice loud and tormented, breaking with agonised emotion. He sobs and wails at his boyfriend on the other end of the telephone, calling him every foul name he can think of. It occurs to me that his boyfriend probably isn't on the other end at all, only an answering machine.
The old Polish woman in the building opposite leans on the railing talking to people down in the car park, her voice grating and raw, like a cartoon witch. It makes me glad she retires early.
A man on the top floor of that building makes honking sounds, like he is hacking up phlegm, but it sounds much stranger than that. The sound would frighten small children, or make them laugh. I imagine he is not human at all, but an alien from another galaxy sent to this part of the city. Every night he needs to take some drug to maintain his human form, and those strange sounds he makes have something to do with this activity.