Try as I might, I cannot find a literary reference to balconies that deals with friendship rather than love. Everything is overflowing with sentiment, undertowed with lust. From Browning, to Wilde, to Shakespeare, to Baudelaire... and there are about fifteen different translations for Baudelaire's thoughts on them on top of it. So it goes. I suppose I could take a step back and write something gauche and contrived about windows, but I really couldn't be bothered. Friends also stand on balconies, though in a somewhat less inspirational manner to the (above) average writer, it seems.