From outside, in.

It was a bleak morning. The sun was reluctant to shine yet the moon had already set. Breathing slowly and gently, she was leaving her mark upon the window. She seemed picturesque, with her right hand’s fingers delicately resting upon the window pane. Her body appeared to frozen in time, yet her eyes were roaming the vast expanses beyond the confines of her room. She seemed to be appreciating something, at least the subtle upward curve of her lips suggest so. Perhaps she was simply appreciating how the wind had blown away the rain, blown away the sky and blown away the leaves. Or maybe; she was simply appreciating how, in spite of all the wind, the trees remained rooted to the ground courtesy the relationship that defied nature’s forces.

She sighed, and her delicate smile sunk, it’s frailty brutally exposed by her innermost thoughts. She turned away from the scene of stability midst change outside, and looked at the scene inside. Tidy, stable, yet changed. There was a strange emptiness, as if all that was dear had defected and only the essentials had remained.

She lay down and took solace in Autumn’s appeal of sympathizing with decay through silence. 


2 comments on “From outside, in.

  1. Anonymous says:

    Amazing as usual !

  2. KJ says:

    So intelligent 🙂

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