I love windows. If I had my way the shades would be up and curtains drawn back every minute of every day.
Of course one of us doesn't like the place to turn into a fish bowl at night-so down they go.
I like to drive past houses at dusk, see them lit from within like a stage ready for the players. And sometimes you catch them, the players, reading in a chair, walking across the room, adjusting the flicker of the television. In just an eye's blink of time.
Bob thinks it's creepy. That's probably why the shades go down.
I don't think it's creepy, I think it's interesting. This, however, has been the source of some debate in the family at large. But that's beside the point
Windows are fascinating, they make me wonder about the stories going on behind the glass. What joy or sorrow walked through that house today?
The thing is, I want my soul to do the same. In those flashpoints of daily life, I want to step into seeing what my sister sees, my friend sees, to look through their windows.
And let the snapshot grow into understanding, into compassion.
You told me you couldn't see
a better day coming,
so I gave you my eyes.