Window

Picture taken from https://www.proremodeler.com/

There is a window in my room, high up on the wall. For years, I haven't been able to see through it because it's too high for my small body. Tonight, though, I find that I can finally peek a little bit if I stand on my tiptoes.

The blinds are a little bit hard to open. I try my hardest with my thin fingers, and get to catch a glimpse of what's outside from the little opening I manage to create.

It is a wonderful sight. The sun is shining over a meadow with a river running through it; a single tree stands near the riverbank. I can see a forest from here, with tall trees that somehow seem more welcoming than intimidating. I long to be out there.

"No," is my mother's reply to my request to go outside. She motions me to sit beside her on the dinner table. "You are safe here."

"But it doesn't seem dangerous outside," I say.

"No buts," she warns me, "I know best."

So I believe her. I spend years after years staying in my room, learning everything I can about the world from books I find around the house, wondering about what danger lurks beyond the safety of my house. I sometimes catch myself staring at the window, but I suppress the thought and read more books.

I don't hate this house. It's dim, so it's not too bright; it's cold, so I don't get hot; it's empty. It's all I've ever known. I don't hate this house. I just don't like it, either.

My curiosity strikes again when I find that I've grown taller now, and can see through the blinds more clearly. The meadow is still there, with the single tree, and the river, and the forest.

But look! There's a deer! There's a deer drinking from the river and there are apples on the tree. My heart beats with excitement. I wonder what is waiting for me in the forest?

"I said no!"

I take a step back, my eyes wide from the shock of my mom's reaction. It's not enough to stop me, though. "But why? I don't see anything that could hurt me, and I'm just going to be out for a few minutes. Just to see what it's like!"

"It's bad for you," she says, "and that's the end of it."

That night, I spend hours looking out the window again. The sun is out, and the deer has gone home. A few apples fall to the ground. I still don't sense anything dangerous.

A few knocks on the window startle me. I look around me, but the room's empty. No way! Could it be... are the knocks from the other side of this wall?

I quickly open the blinds fully. Outside, a woman with short hair and familiar eyes is standing right in front of the window. She smiles when she sees me. "Hey kiddo," she says, as if she's known me for years. It's the first time I've ever seen her!

Yet for some reason, I feel like I've known her for years, too.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Don't worry about it," she says, distracted as her hands search for something in her bag. "Got it, now stand back," she commands. I look at what she has produced: a rock?

"What are you trying to do...?"

"Just be quiet and stand back," she sounds impatient, so I do as she says. CRACK! She throws the rock at the window glass.

I almost shout, "ARE YOU CRAZY?" at her when I realize that the sound wasn't as loud as I thought it would be - nobody would have heard it from outside my room.

The woman grins, and gently pushes the crack in the window. The glass gives in and shatters, falling to the ground, and then vanishes like dust.

There is now a gaping hole in high up on the wall of my room.

She extends her hand to me and says, "Come. I'm going to show you what it's like."

"But-" I hesitate, "but Mom says it's dangerous."

The woman shrugs. "It's not. Do you want to stay, or do you want to come with me?"

I take her hand. When I get through, I feel warmth on my face. It's daytime! And it's the scene I've always admired from inside the room: the meadow, the tree, the river, the forest, even the apples and the deer. But now I can experience it by myself: the wind swaying my hair, the grass tickling my feet.

"It's wonderful!" I run towards the tree, hugging it and then hugging the deer, playing with the water. "The outside world is so wonderful!"

"It is," the woman smiles. We spend a few hours just being outside, me soaking it all up. It's everything I expect it to be and more - I feel more at home than at my actual home.

She takes me back to the window, and I climb right through it. When my feet land, it's dark again - the night has come back, and the glass on the window appears unbroken. I look for her.

She's still there, smiling at me. "Listen," she says in a whisper, "It's going to be all right. One day, you're going to walk out of the door and enjoy the world, all by yourself."

"How do you know?" I ask her.

"Because I'm you from your future," she says, smirking, "And I turned out all right, didn't I?"

Weather

Photograph by Sitthan Kutty on Pexels

I stretch my arms high, relieving them from the pressure of sitting in front of the computer for hours straight. I look at the clock: it's near 9 p.m. No wonder it's so dark outside. I get up, stretch a little more, and look out the window. There is nobody on the streets, safe for the couple walking together with bags in their hands. Ah, a little Alfamart run. I smile, sigh, and close the blinds. Time to prepare to sleep, I guess.

I wake up the next morning to the sounds of thunder and heavy rain--my eyes wide, my heart pounding. It's 3 a.m.! Can't a girl get a decent sleep for once in her life? I try to go back to slumberland to no avail, so I make the decision to turn on the lights in my room and read a little. I catch a glimpse of my phone - no new notifications.

Later in the afternoon, the sky has done a full 180 like that Dua Lipa song: no more rain, only sun. I lower the blinds of the window in front of my computer a bit, finding the light a little blinding to my poor, poor eyes. I take a little break from my work to check on my phone. It's 12 p.m., almost time for you to take your break as well.

I jump a little when the familiar sound of Darth Vader's ominous theme song blasts off my phone - my favorite sound. I answer your call with an excited "Hello?" and can practically hear you smile from the other side. You tell me you miss me, I tell you the same thing and ask you what you're eating for lunch, and then you tell me that you'll just grab whatever's available because it's raining cats and dogs on your side of the island and you can't be bothered to go out and buy some. I tell you it's actually the opposite weather over here. You chuckle and say, "It must be nice."

I shrug. "Honestly? I'd take a storm over the sunshine any day if that meant I could be with you."

I don't know how you don't just hang up the phone right then and there - instead, you laugh that hearty laugh of yours that I've been wanting to hear since yesterday. "Patience, my dear," you say like someone from the 1950s, "we'll share the weather when the time is right."