pane panel glass

It was dusty, for it was seldom cleaned. Someone had touched it once, leaving a handprint behind, a ghostly reminded of past presence. Cobwebs grew against the plastic separating it from its neighbor, fake wooden slats poorly disguising that it was one contiguous sheet.

During the summer months, mosquitos pushed in futility against it, trying to reach the things living inside, whom it protected. Now, though, frigid winds caressing its smooth surface, the pane was only bumped by the occasional flailing branch or falling leaf.

With painfully glacial slowness, the semi-liquid panel oozed downward, drawn by gravity’s weak force toward the battered flooring panels below. Warmed a few hours each day by the setting sun, the window looked out over a peaceful garden in which a snuffling shih tzu sometimes barked.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan