Do you miss The Window?
The untouched, innocent, free window.
The one not smothered by a mosquito mesh, the one not imprisoned behind metal bars, the one not suffocated by a sealed glass pane?
Especially the one with a broad enough sill on which you can curl up wall to wall? A book resting on your knees? And a cup of tea snuggling against your toes?
A window a healthy distance away from the ground, standing on its toes trying to catch a fly-by lazy low cloud? So that you sometimes want to dangle your legs over the ‘other side’ – until you feel scared enough that a wayward sneeze might shake you up and send you on a trip with gravity?
When the sky strips off its starry blue pyjamas, quickly pulls on some sexy purple, orange and red underwear before slipping into a boring white or blue office shirt?
When the sun blushes from all the attention she gets from the flirtatious birds hooting at her, showing off their flying tricks to impress her?
When you want to watch little people scurry past? And feel smugly amused about the meaninglessness of their hurried lives?
When it feels “rainy”? When rain plays darts on road-side puddles?
When you so want the ‘outside’? Without walls – forgetting the walls around you?
A window long and wide – to keep you hooked to your dreams, to keep you whistling to the wind – for minutes making hours?
The Window – Sigh, I’m so craving one right now.