The Window

Ever since we moved to this dreary house, I've noticed the large window, a bland one at that, situated on the back wall, and not a thing different to most windows, in their eyes. What I saw what nobody else could. I thought nothing of it at first, maybe just a smudge or shadow, but every day it changed, just slightly so you didn't notice, like a growing child. Once I'd lived there for a small while I could see the image coming together, it was a silhouette of a women, shoulder up, with long flowing hair, dancing in a non existent breeze. I'd shown everyone, but no one could see what I could, they thought I was crazy, deranged even, it was driving me insane. But then I realised I was the one who was sane, they were wrong, all wrong. But that all changed when a women appeared at my door, long wavy honey locks, bronze skin and chocolate eyes, pure beauty. She entered without welcome, I followed swiftly as the door slammed shut. She was in the room with the window, she stood staring. She pointed. She turned so she lined up with the image, wait no... She was the image exactly. I stumbled with surprise. As soon as I opened my mouth, she disappeared and with her, the image and what was left of my sanity.