Wednesday, March 22, 2017

F prompt

Outside the Window: What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?

She is sitting at the laptop, by the patio doors, looking out of the window.  An untouched cup of tea steams next to her, and her fingers are silent on the computer.  Her eyes are fixed to the world outside, and she doesn't see the dampness and the greyness of a March morning in Norfolk, where the clouds hang so low you could touch them, and the morning dew is like a glistening lake on the grass. Through the dusty glass she sees the shed, starting to tumble, the trees are gone and the world is silent.  The muddy yellow hose is hung across the abandoned patio table, and the stones are interspersed with weeds taking advantage of her broken heart.  Dereliction abounds, and once more she has made vague promises to the boy that she will sort it this summer, but her heart is not really in it.

Instead, her heart sees a July morning, with a perfect blue sky, fresh with the promise of a new day.  It sees the sun reflecting from the windows of the house opposite, and it remembers noticing the colours on the bricks as if for the first time.  Whilst these are red brick houses, the bricks are many different hues of red, orange and even more yellow than anything else in places.  Her tea was hot, and her small child was sleeping, and for the moment, this moment, was hers alone. She remembers knowing that the garden needed mowing, and planning to get out there this weekend coming.  She remembers wanting to buy material in those brick colours, and build a quilt.  She remembers the coolness of the tiled floor under her feet, and the way that the smooth countertop felt when she leant against it.  This was the moment that she could freeze, as the last time everything was beautiful before the darkness came.

And yet.  On this March morning, as her tea sits beside her, she can see the pinking of the grey now that false dawn has gone.  She can see the gaps in the cloud where the blue, pale and weak now, looks as though it will be stronger and brighter by playtime.  She can see the hope of another sunrise, and hope is all she needs.