Topic: A Window
For years I’ve looked out into the dark forest. I’ve seen it all. Even when my curtains shielded the humans from the outside world, I still saw.
I saw when little Timmy scratched the family car. I saw when he and his mother walked over to the neighbors house to talk about it. I even saw, weeks later, when little Timmy apologized to the neighbor boy for keeping silent when the neighbor boy’s name arose as a suspect.
I wasn’t the first to see how Rick looked at the mail lady but I was the first to see how she looked back. I saw how quickly she stabbed envelopes out of the bag over her shoulder for other houses and how slowly and delicately she lingered around ours.
I see every time the rabbits and deer steal fruit from the garden. I see when Rick falls on the ice in the driveway before work, each time his face juggling between laughing at himself, wishing he weren’t too lazy the night before to salt the driveway and deciding if he has time to change without being late for work.
I even saw when Mrs. Jenkins’ cat got swooped up by the tornado and ended up in our garage.
I see it all. I may be old and largely forgotten about, but I still keep the cold out in the winter, keep the cold in during the summer and protect “what happens in this house.” In between, I watch.