The View Out My Window

Selma looked out the kitchen window at the spring scene displayed just for her. At least that’s how it looked, with the window framing all the green, an impressionist’s view of the world. The morning sun painted the leaves and left shadows in the places where they had yet to grow in. In one of those shadows, the pink of the azaleas in the neighbor’s yard popped through.

What if she could dive into this painting? Swim through the colors and find a bright place to be? She imagined the weight on her soul staying behind along with all those people that caused it. She would be so light in this new place that she could fly.

The hot water in the sink seeped through her gloves to her fingers and she was sucked back into the kitchen. She took a deep breath and washed dishes. She watched the bubbles slip along the surface of the water as she washed. Was it insane to have such imaginings?

She flicked her eyes up at the green painting and down again at the bubbles. Maybe we all need a bit if insanity to stay sane.

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