When you hit the writer’s block and cannot think beyond what is in front of you. Below are some tiny scribbles on what was in front of me – A window.
Happy Reading!
The sudden sunrise is what woke her up. The deep night’s sleep was shaken out of her swollen eyes. Tiredly she moved her limp body to get closer to the spot so she could touch the sun’s rays. To the spot where you could feel its warmth the most. Slithering over her stomach and dragging the chained foot, the girl opened the one eye that she could. 12 hours of quiet pain until it would start all over again.
Tan rounded aviator silhouette remind me of Jennifer Aniston. She is one actor who can carry off any look. My fingers wander over the different sunglasses at the store in the mall. Knowing very well my wallet will not support any of these designer eye wears. So I try on the most expensive ones admiring my sharp jawline in the mirror making the most of my break, window shopping.
The soft creaking sound woke me up. The open window made all the hairs on my body stand up, as I tried to remember why or when did I open this window in the middle of a winter snowstorm. I courageously looked out of the window only to find the footsteps on the fresh fallen snow leading to the window. Like I was some caged princess waiting to be rescued by my prince who was finally here. His hands were cold and rough around my neck, reminding me not every prince is worth the wait.
I have lived here long. This house holds laughs, tears, celebrations, and many memories. Every inch of this house tells a story, a moment too precious to be forgotten. But this one, by the corner window, is something else. I have stood here every afternoon watching cars drive by. Trucks halting to unload and load stuck vehicles. Old people walking away like there might not be a tomorrow. The day runs out of my hands but I am always alerted at 3:55 pm to stand by this one waiting for my daughters to get off that bus and run towards me screaming, “Mommy, I have to something to tell you.” Definitely, some windows are way more special than the others.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 