red light

Sometime in late winter, two girls moved into the flat across from my bedroom window. They suddenly appeared and spent a few days cleaning - the floors, paint brushes. And sorting out. Emptying boxes. Then they'd settled down.
I saw one of them cooking in the kitchen wearing her pyjama bottom and a bra. I saw them getting ready to go out, all made up with dangly things in their hair. The boyfriend came and also helped preparing various foody stuff at late hours of the night.
But for the past week, whenever I've looked across, all I've seen is the red light in the bedroom, on. No life, no movement. Just the red light.
Which, by the way, stroke me as particularly noteworthy after having seen the last david lynch film.