The Window continued...

Here is more to the novel I am workig on writing...

As if to make all the matters of her childhood worse, shortly after moving into her new little house the woman discovered at her six month check-up that she had inherited the deadly family cancer. It was slow and unforgiving, moving from the feet, through the legs, and after weakening the abdominal organs, it attacked the heart. At sixty-seven years old, the woman seemed to feel it upon her more and more each day, causing sore feet, to numb ankles and finally a walker, then a wheelchair. Each week she reported to her personal doctor, dreading the same news each time – there was still no cure. She begged the scientists, saying she would readily pay any amount, even showing them the money…but they just couldn’t figure it out. But she didn’t want to die! She had once loved to invent, and imagine, planting and skipping, sometimes running through the fields behind her home, and riding the horses she had secretly purchased until the day was done. But that was all over now. Pretty soon she wouldn’t even be able to stand. What a life this is, the old dying woman often thought to herself. What a life.
None of this woman’s neighbors ever bothered or dared to visit her, but if they had just taken one chance to step inside her house, they would have been instantly filled with amazement and insist upon visiting longer. Its _____ style was most pleasurable, with cute little tables and chandeliers adorning each room. The curtains matched the couch pillows, and dainty little pots and pans hung from a ______ above the kitchen counter. In the living room beside the welcoming fire place a coffee table sat with a silver tea tray, holding crumpets and some of the best tea you’d ever sip. A bookshelf on the right wall spilling over with books of all sorts would catch your attention, and then you would look up as her ____ clock chimed on the mantle. Out the side door you would find a miniature green house the woman had once constructed herself, with secret herbs and strange flowers from many faraway lands. The backyard was more like some sort of sanctuary, with rows and rows of rose bushes and vine covered arches.
In the back rooms of the magnificent little house, you might find a pancake making machine, or possibly a mechanical letter sealer. All the woman’s many inventions she thought up years ago when healthy and well would be lined up against the wall, with tables of acids and experiments in the center. To the side, a small kitchen, and the whirring of a coffee maker preparing a hot cup for the once industrious inventor. The open basement window would reveal an experimental garden blossoming in the window well, and as you looked up at the little chimney puffing smoke, you would realize that it certainly was a comfortable little place.
But no one did visit her, so this woman was left to enjoy it all alone, which she had no problem doing. She had learned to rather dislike all people after her dreary childhood, accidental fortune and tragic disease, luring greedy people to follow her everywhere she even thought of going. And now escaped from them and all alone, she didn’t have to deal all the worldly people, and she had no intent upon becoming acquainted with anyone. And that was that.
So aside from all of her reading and thinking and studying her old inventions, after some time alone, this woman couldn’t help but to notice her neighbors…peculiar people, and the most interesting things they did. She realized that when one can’t walk, the world is a whole different place. She soon found herself constantly watching them all through the perfectly polished glass of her favorite window, just wide enough to admit her wheelchair, and not alter her lovely view of the neighborhood.
Perched in her big black chair at her large upstairs bedroom window, with misty green curtains laid softly at each side, she watched them. She studied their every move. She observed who they talked to and how, and the things that revoked certain feelings. She observed the things they bought and why, and what time they left their houses for what reasons. Their neighborly or personal disputes were never missed by this woman, bestowing upon them the icy glare of a lonely old, crippled woman. But behind the ice, the eyes melted until they were almost in tears. She watched them fight and cry and laugh and play – it was all just too interesting. Some days she realized what she was doing, and wondered if she had gone crazy, watching all her stupid neighbors, people she didn’t even know…and yet, she knew them. And the more she watched, the more she began to wonder if her lonely, reserved life was really what she wanted after all…
As if to make all the matters of her childhood worse, shortly after moving into her new little house the woman discovered at her six month check-up that she had inherited the deadly family cancer. It was slow and unforgiving, moving from the feet, through the legs, and after weakening the abdominal organs, it attacked the heart. At sixty-seven years old, the woman seemed to feel it upon her more and more each day, causing sore feet, to numb ankles and finally a walker, then a wheelchair. Each week she reported to her personal doctor, dreading the same news each time – there was still no cure. She begged the scientists, saying she would readily pay any amount, even showing them the money…but they just couldn’t figure it out. But she didn’t want to die! She had once loved to invent, and imagine, planting and skipping, sometimes running through the fields behind her home, and riding the horses she had secretly purchased until the day was done. But that was all over now. Pretty soon she wouldn’t even be able to stand. What a life this is, the old dying woman often thought to herself. What a life.
None of this woman’s neighbors ever bothered or dared to visit her, but if they had just taken one chance to step inside her house, they would have been instantly filled with amazement and insist upon visiting longer. Its _____ style was most pleasurable, with cute little tables and chandeliers adorning each room. The curtains matched the couch pillows, and dainty little pots and pans hung from a ______ above the kitchen counter. In the living room beside the welcoming fire place a coffee table sat with a silver tea tray, holding crumpets and some of the best tea you’d ever sip. A bookshelf on the right wall spilling over with books of all sorts would catch your attention, and then you would look up as her ____ clock chimed on the mantle. Out the side door you would find a miniature green house the woman had once constructed herself, with secret herbs and strange flowers from many faraway lands. The backyard was more like some sort of sanctuary, with rows and rows of rose bushes and vine covered arches.
In the back rooms of the magnificent little house, you might find a pancake making machine, or possibly a mechanical letter sealer. All the woman’s many inventions she thought up years ago when healthy and well would be lined up against the wall, with tables of acids and experiments in the center. To the side, a small kitchen, and the whirring of a coffee maker preparing a hot cup for the once industrious inventor. The open basement window would reveal an experimental garden blossoming in the window well, and as you looked up at the little chimney puffing smoke, you would realize that it certainly was a comfortable little place.
But no one did visit her, so this woman was left to enjoy it all alone, which she had no problem doing. She had learned to rather dislike all people after her dreary childhood, accidental fortune and tragic disease, luring greedy people to follow her everywhere she even thought of going. And now escaped from them and all alone, she didn’t have to deal all the worldly people, and she had no intent upon becoming acquainted with anyone. And that was that.
So aside from all of her reading and thinking and studying her old inventions, after some time alone, this woman couldn’t help but to notice her neighbors…peculiar people, and the most interesting things they did. She realized that when one can’t walk, the world is a whole different place. She soon found herself constantly watching them all through the perfectly polished glass of her favorite window, just wide enough to admit her wheelchair, and not alter her lovely view of the neighborhood.
Perched in her big black chair at her large upstairs bedroom window, with misty green curtains laid softly at each side, she watched them. She studied their every move. She observed who they talked to and how, and the things that revoked certain feelings. She observed the things they bought and why, and what time they left their houses for what reasons. Their neighborly or personal disputes were never missed by this woman, bestowing upon them the icy glare of a lonely old, crippled woman. But behind the ice, the eyes melted until they were almost in tears. She watched them fight and cry and laugh and play – it was all just too interesting. Some days she realized what she was doing, and wondered if she had gone crazy, watching all her stupid neighbors, people she didn’t even know…and yet, she knew them. And the more she watched, the more she began to wonder if her lonely, reserved life was really what she wanted after all…
As if to make all the matters of her childhood worse, shortly after moving into her new little house the woman discovered at her six month check-up that she had inherited the deadly family cancer. It was slow and unforgiving, moving from the feet, through the legs, and after weakening the abdominal organs, it attacked the heart. At sixty-seven years old, the woman seemed to feel it upon her more and more each day, causing sore feet, to numb ankles and finally a walker, then a wheelchair. Each week she reported to her personal doctor, dreading the same news each time – there was still no cure. She begged the scientists, saying she would readily pay any amount, even showing them the money…but they just couldn’t figure it out. But she didn’t want to die! She had once loved to invent, and imagine, planting and skipping, sometimes running through the fields behind her home, and riding the horses she had secretly purchased until the day was done. But that was all over now. Pretty soon she wouldn’t even be able to stand. What a life this is, the old dying woman often thought to herself. What a life.
None of this woman’s neighbors ever bothered or dared to visit her, but if they had just taken one chance to step inside her house, they would have been instantly filled with amazement and insist upon visiting longer. Its _____ style was most pleasurable, with cute little tables and chandeliers adorning each room. The curtains matched the couch pillows, and dainty little pots and pans hung from a ______ above the kitchen counter. In the living room beside the welcoming fire place a coffee table sat with a silver tea tray, holding crumpets and some of the best tea you’d ever sip. A bookshelf on the right wall spilling over with books of all sorts would catch your attention, and then you would look up as her ____ clock chimed on the mantle. Out the side door you would find a miniature green house the woman had once constructed herself, with secret herbs and strange flowers from many faraway lands. The backyard was more like some sort of sanctuary, with rows and rows of rose bushes and vine covered arches.
In the back rooms of the magnificent little house, you might find a pancake making machine, or possibly a mechanical letter sealer. All the woman’s many inventions she thought up years ago when healthy and well would be lined up against the wall, with tables of acids and experiments in the center. To the side, a small kitchen, and the whirring of a coffee maker preparing a hot cup for the once industrious inventor. The open basement window would reveal an experimental garden blossoming in the window well, and as you looked up at the little chimney puffing smoke, you would realize that it certainly was a comfortable little place.
But no one did visit her, so this woman was left to enjoy it all alone, which she had no problem doing. She had learned to rather dislike all people after her dreary childhood, accidental fortune and tragic disease, luring greedy people to follow her everywhere she even thought of going. And now escaped from them and all alone, she didn’t have to deal all the worldly people, and she had no intent upon becoming acquainted with anyone. And that was that.
So aside from all of her reading and thinking and studying her old inventions, after some time alone, this woman couldn’t help but to notice her neighbors…peculiar people, and the most interesting things they did. She realized that when one can’t walk, the world is a whole different place. She soon found herself constantly watching them all through the perfectly polished glass of her favorite window, just wide enough to admit her wheelchair, and not alter her lovely view of the neighborhood.
Perched in her big black chair at her large upstairs bedroom window, with misty green curtains laid softly at each side, she watched them. She studied their every move. She observed who they talked to and how, and the things that revoked certain feelings. She observed the things they bought and why, and what time they left their houses for what reasons. Their neighborly or personal disputes were never missed by this woman, bestowing upon them the icy glare of a lonely old, crippled woman. But behind the ice, the eyes melted until they were almost in tears. She watched them fight and cry and laugh and play – it was all just too interesting. Some days she realized what she was doing, and wondered if she had gone crazy, watching all her stupid neighbors, people she didn’t even know…and yet, she knew them. And the more she watched, the more she began to wonder if her lonely, reserved life was really what she wanted after all…