I stand behind the window in my room. The breeze outside is struggling to get inside. I see the lonely trees standing in front of me and I wonder how long until it rains again to make them come to life. Thanks to the wind their leaves are dancing effortless like ballerinas in the air. Such a beautiful movement distracts me.
When I come back from my imagination trip, I get philosophical about this window. I realize I am a spectator of what is happening outside and ask myself why on earth I have decided to sit here everyday and not be there enjoying life? I remember how much I loved being outside when I was little. I used to run around and get myself dirty with mud. Sometimes I picked the neighbors roses and nobody would notice. I used to run everywhere and then hide in my magic place behind the trees. I remember these things and get very nostalgic.
As I focus on the street, I notice something different. A little girl is staring at my window from a distance. She has a polka dot dress and a pink bow on her head. I guess she probably is nine years old. I wonder if she can see me and that makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being watched, it may sound ironic since I’m the one spying from my window.The little girl seems terrified but she does not move. Why is she so scared? She approaches just a little and takes a double look at my window. What is her problem? Why is she so interested in my territory? Do I have to open my window and ask her?
I meditate a little and decide to go downstairs, open the door and talk to her. When I get up to open the door I stop abruptly. Then it hits me like lighting in a stormy night. I cannot leave this room. I have been a ghost for 20 years. I am trapped here forever…