THE WINDOW

The boy sat at the window, reflections draped across him - hiding and not hiding at the same time. He was perplexity in motion, he was a smile on the horizon of the world. He opened the rusted window with a squeak, took a deep breath, sensing all that was alive, all that was well. There was the wild buzzing of a hundred insects, there was the snuffle and shriek of creatures large and tall, there was the slow flap of wings as myriad birds flew and scattered. The boy filled his lungs and screamed in delight, in celebration, in ecstacy and in transformation. Life was good, from the window, life was good within the world.