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TITLE: The Window
By Terry Atchison
05/04/09
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In love; out of love? Too soon catches up with too late?
The Window

She sits in her chair, close to the window, staring at the trees, the sunlight, birds, and all the squirrels, jumping from tree to tree. Her life is now only memories that she relives each day. Many of them fade or no longer have meaning…just brief recollections of faces or names, or occasions. Her heart aches when she thinks of him who loved her for a brief moment in time. How she had felt so young and full of life and love then! That love, ten years ago, was something that had brought her back to life. It seemed an impossible dream happening to her, after all she had been through. She had felt so alive, so happy, so full of life! God had even graced her by answering her prayers, telling her that it was right for her to love again. But she let her emotions, the devil, or some force she did not understand, diminish her loving care that she had inside her…almost overnight, it seemed. Little by little, she pushed away all she had felt, rationalizing that she needs to be alone to find herself, to feel comfortable in her life. Her work took over once again, smothering her feelings and emotions into nothing. Life became very busy, too busy to waste time with feelings about loving or caring for another. She lived for work and family, not herself. And the months turned to years, the man who loved her so, faded away, out of her life, and she kept busy, too busy to think or care.

The sunlight entered through the pane of glass as she stared outside. She welcomed the warmth as she sat there, alone. Her eyes shut, she remembered him holding her close, kissing her, stroking her and telling her all kinds of things that lovers say. Now she was seventy, alone in a home, living on memories. A tear trickled down her cheek as she called out his name in her thoughts. The autumn years, alone, made her realize how much she cared. Today, it is over. He is gone. Now the sun was setting, she falls asleep, more tears, then soft breathing. Tomorrow will be another day, filled with the same memories and feelings as today.


Terry Atchison
March 22, 2008
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