In my living room, windows are obstructed by air conditioners, make it hard to see. At least there is another window to look through. There I see my sunsets, and I open the screen and shoot them with my camera, invariably capturing the very large tree down a couple of blocks. Sometimes the sun sets behind her, and she looks all ablaze.
I think of the bedrooms I shared with Steve for so many years, and through so many windows. Windows looking out on a quiet Bay Ridge street, with lamplight glowing. Windows that looked over the back of 2-family houses, and the people that would hear my screaming at him as I so often did. Windows too close for comfort.
Windows so high in Finland that they looked out upon the sky. There were lower ones, too, but the high ones fascinated me. There were meant to light the second landing, but were unreachable from there.
When I was a kid, living over my dad's bakery, I remember looking out the kitchen window, and I aw a few men coming to break into the bakery from the back yard. I tried to scream but it got cauht in y throat. I tried to fun to my father, but my legs were paralyzed, so frightened this made me. I finally got to tell him, and I can't remember what happened after that.
~Sapphire looking out the window~
*A free-write is a type of automatic writing, where you just go with your stream of consciousness non-stop. There's no thought to spelling or grammar, and no editing of words. Supposedly this opens the mind up to greater creativity. They can be 5, 10 or 20 minutes long. Visit Evie, whom I freewrite with, at the space between colors.