The glass in the window was very old.
Glass is a time-lapsed liquid.
Dripping and flowing,
so slow that it's a hundred years or more before the glass is distorted.
Time has snitched on the windows solidity.
There was a time in Time when the window was newly forged.
To look through it was like looking through nothing but the air in front of your face.
But now,
the drips and the wrinkles,
the waves and the curves,
make everything on the other side shift and shimmer in an unnatural manner.
I was once asked
( during one of my many hour long gazes through thick, liquid glass),
why doing so didn't seem to give me a headache.
I would shrug.
I mean, how the hell...