The Window

The blinds parted slightly and a single brown eye could be seen through them, a strand of hair covering it partially. The eye watched for about 2 minutes, and then the blinds closed again. This happened approximately every hour. For every hour, she’d open the blinds of her room and peek outside.

Just a little bit.
Just for a little time.

And she’d watch the world outside her little room for 2 minutes and imagine what it’d be like to live there. To walk those streets and drive those cars. To hold hands like that couple under the fir tree. To throw a tantrum to her mother for an ice cream like that little boy. To run behind a dog like that girl with an empty leash. To have picnics in the garden like that family playing with the frisbee.

In another life, the blasts would never have happened. In another life, there wouldn’t have been any radiation in her body. In another life, she wouldn’t have had to live in a white box, with only one tiny window to connect her to the outside world.

In another life, she’d still have a family.

She cursed humanity everyday, for it was the reason for her condition.
But she watched humanity everyday through her window.
And longed to be a part of it.

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