The Window

“You know, it is hard for me to tell you how I feel. I’m just not that type of guy. You’re more opposite than me.” Said Degen

“Just approach that window. Pretend I am not here and let it out. Talk to the tree outside.” Said Lucy

“I see fields. Daffodils and funny looking yellow plants. It is quite easy for the wind to blow each away. I find it a shame that I drift away like this sometimes.” Said Boomyie

“No doubt without daydreaming there would be no fiction. Inspiration, the scientists would have you believe that imagination is a cultivation of chemicals. How do they account for that which is around us – the not man made? Nature.” Said George.

“They cannot. Children run through urban streets all day. Cars do not look for them; the people who drive them do. But only by accident – in the double use of the word.” Said Lavanya

“Do you sometimes stare at flowers and see children’s eyes?” Said Boomyie

“Only when I really get into my memories. When I search hard, right back to where I began. This is when I remember.” Said Degen

“Remember what? Memories are just visions. Look at these visions and describe each; there is no need to delve or try. Undoubtedly it will come natural.” Said George

“I’m not quite sure. If you haven’t guessed by now (and brother, this is sarcasm), I do get quite nervous. Especially when I look and do not see the clear images that we all see. Mine are distorted. This worries me.” Said Lucy

“I get scared of the future myself. Things that may or may not happen. I play the image like video feed… and then BOOM! I’m back to the present.” Said Lavanya

“Neither the past nor the future is retrievable by staring through glass. Yet, when I do, the earth appears to me. I cherish it and begin to wonder; would you like me to tell you just what it is that I wonder?” Said Boomyie