Waiting for Her

When the time comes, she will know. She has stood at the window watching everything that happens out there. One day, and she feels it will be soon, it will be time for her to step out, back into that world she has watched for so long.

There was a time when she used to go out in that world; there was a time when she thought it was all there, waiting for her.

There was a time….

Now, though, there are only the slow days that pass outside the window, the shadows turning and passing as the sun moves from one side of the window to the other, and then the darkness comes and the street lights flicker into life.

She watches the life of the street outside: she knows the regulars and the strangers, the dog walkers, the traders, those who think they are secret lovers and use the room opposite hers, the old woman across the street, who watches too.

One day, she knows she will go back out there, but for the moment, she has work to do, making sure the street out there carries on as normal. She has to bring the characters that inhabit the days on from the wings where the edges of her window lie. She has to set them about their business, opening their shops, tugging or tugged by their dogs, meeting with a secret kiss out from under the glow of the streetlights, selling themselves to strangers and all the routines of the day that she has created out there so the world can turn around her.