The Man in the Window — Part 1
A week passed and Verity still walked down the same street, passing by the same building, looking for the same person — The man in the window.
The last Friday of that week when Verity was almost about to give up on the man in the window, Verity found herself lingering a little longer than usual near the house of the Man.
All Verity wanted was a sign. She needed proof that she did not imagine the man on the window and that he was real.
Verity looked at the window intently for a few minutes and dropped her head down in disappointment. The sun shone brightly into her eyes at 6 PM in the evening and Verity found herself wiping almost tears from her eyes when suddenly a letter fell right in front of her out of nowhere.
It was a dark blue envelope and looked too clean to be left out on the street. Verity picked it up and looked around to see where it came from.
There were no signs of human activity anywhere close except for a few cats walking quietly nearby.
Verity examined the letter. It had no ‘to’ or ‘from’ written on it. In fact, the face of the letter was blank. Verity suddenly felt a strong intuition running inside her telling her the letter was for her and not for anyone. She looked up again to the window to see if she can spot the man in the window but it still looked empty and lifeless.
Verity sat down on the street and opened the envelope carefully and started reading what was written in it —
“Are you old or do you just have a face that talks about all the years you’ve survived past the creases of your forehead.
What do you do when you are not doing what I usually see you doing?
Do you maybe have a house you call a home a person who calls you ‘Mine’?
Sometimes I see you smile, sometimes I see you frown.
Sometimes I see you pace up the streets, sometimes I see you just standing there.
Was there ever a time you saw yourself as I see you?
Was there ever a time you saw me like I wanted you to see me?”
Verity folded the envelope back neatly, put it in her backpack, and walked home.
