Standing by the window. The breeze burns her eyes. The ghost of a smile is in its place, never to come to life again. To never resurrect. Like a wounded cougar, beaten and defeated, she blandly stares at the hoax of a city beneath her. Looking, never seeing. Her hollow gape soothes her churning soul. The stillness fills her with a kind of warmth she hasn't felt for a long time. She stares at the outline of a tower and a smirk now climbs her face. An unnecessary display of man's desire to touch the sky, she thinks. The sun is at its lowest. It's time. She sets out in the cool evening sun. Away from her home. Away from the city. Away from the window. Away from the tower. To touch the bonfire of sunset colours, metaphorically. To delve into dark brown around it, really. Another window. Another world. Acceptance, finally.
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