Thursday, May 16, 2013
Her attention turns towards the window. The late afternoon sunshine seeps through the slatted wooden blinds. The leaves on the trees are getting bigger now, larger than the buds that were out there just a month ago. It's windy today, and the branches bend and sway and dance from side to side. Across the yard sits the little pink birdhouse, faded from years of hanging out in the sun. A pair of Chickadees built a nest in it this spring, and she wonders if the eggs have hatched like the ones of the Common Red-poles above the front door post. She watches the traffic drive past the town common for a few minutes. Her thoughts drift off to how many hours she has stared out this same window over the past years. Lost in her own dark thoughts, tears streaming down her face. How many times she sat in this same chair during what should've been a two way conversation, staring out that window while she waited for a response, or an answer, or anything at all.