One fine morning, a morning that seemed like any other morning, Verity, a 24 year old girl noticed a man in the window of a nearby house that was empty for 33 years.
The house was a very old one that Verity walked by on her way to university every morning at 6.57 am for the last 3 years. Verity noticed at a very young age that her mind worked better in the mornings than in the evenings. She adjusted her entire schedule to make the most of the mornings.
That day, like every other day, while Verity walked by the old deserted house with a rusty door and paint chipping off the walls, Verity stopped her stroll and looked into the building.
It was a small house with a few rooms and windows. The creepers grew shamelessly all over the house and were almost growing out to the street. Verity was sure this house was an abandoned house, like many houses in her block ever since the new mayor of the town announced that he was going to build a plastic recycling factory down the street.
Verity and her family never moved. They protested against the factory construction and stay put without moving while most of the people moved from their houses all the way across town and some even to a different city.
That day when Verity looked into the building she saw a Man. She was not sure if it was a young man or an old man, but it sure was a man. He was a little tall, peeping from one the windows of the houses looking at all the people walking past the house.
Verity looked at him intently for almost a minute and went on her way. Verity wondered who the man was and most importantly what he was doing there. The house certainly looked abandoned.
The next day too, Verity noticed the man standing in the window staring intently at the passers-by. Verity looked at him for a moment and left.
This pattern repeated for a few days and sometimes Verity thought if the man was just a painting on the wall. He looked outside the window with almost no expression on his face, no feelings or movement. He just stood there still and watched.
A Tuesday morning that week, Verity noticed that Man’s hair and beard showed a good hint of grey. Strange enough, his grayish hair looked neatly gelled back and the man, despite his aging, looked good and well-groomed.
A Thursday that same week, Verity ripped an empty page of her journal and wrote -
“To Man in the window every day at 6.57 AM — Hi”.
She folded the note into a half and during her walk back home from the university, Verity walked up to the door of the house. She waited on the porch to notice any signs of activity but all she heard was the wind blowing and leaves rustling. The house for sure was dead. Verity silently slid the note under the door and left.
The next day, Verity work up a little early than usual and walked to the door of Man’s house to see if her letter from yesterday got a response. Sure enough, there was a paper, the same paper she left from yesterday, crumpled into a ball.
Verity fumbled as she opened the paper to read what was in it.
“Hi” — was written under her note, with a pencil.
Verity now knew she was not imagining the man in the window. He was real.
Verity tried to get a better look at the window to spot him. Strange enough, he wasn't there today.
Verity opened her backpack, rummaged her stuff for a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled on it —
“Where are you? I can’t see you!” and slid the note under the door.
There was no response.
Verity waited for a few minutes and tried unlocking the front door of the house. It was sealed shut. She peeped in through the windows and all she found was broken bricks and dust all over.
This was not a place for a person to live. Verity wondered what the man in the window was doing in a house like this. Most importantly, Verity wondered why he was not there today.
