My name's axel
what remains of the day
There was a time when sunlight came through this window and lit the face of a woman asleep. She would turn away, burrowing her face into the pillow or the shoulder of her husband, and for five minutes more would fend off the reality of the coming day.
There was a time when this window was thrown open to birdsong and the scent of honeysuckle. The voices of children playing were heard through this window, and the low rumble of thunder warning of a coming storm. And after the storm had spent itself, while the eaves still dripped and plinked musically against the sill, the woman would crack the window and breathe the rainsmell.
There was a time when frost laid its pale cheek against this window, and the woman would rise early to stoke the fire. She would prepare breakfast for her husband and children, and the warmth of the family would slowly erase away the frost.
There was a time when all of this was true. But that time is gone and now the window is dusty and spidered, closed against the elements, protecting only an empty room.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
