The girl in the window.
I was deep in work,
The pen in my hand was an extended entity of mine.
But all of a sudden it stopped,
It stopped moving on its own.
I put it down and held my head in my hands,
Tears welled up in my eyes,
And I sniffled softly.
The rain outside filled the air with a light pitter and patter,
They made a distinct sound on the shingles above,
It felt as though the nature was also pitying on me.
That was when I heard a soft whisper, A call at the window.
When I looked toward it, a girl stared back right beside the fire latern,
smiling softly.
...
The pen in my hand was an extended entity of mine.
But all of a sudden it stopped,
It stopped moving on its own.
I put it down and held my head in my hands,
Tears welled up in my eyes,
And I sniffled softly.
The rain outside filled the air with a light pitter and patter,
They made a distinct sound on the shingles above,
It felt as though the nature was also pitying on me.
That was when I heard a soft whisper, A call at the window.
When I looked toward it, a girl stared back right beside the fire latern,
smiling softly.
...