Micro-Monday Flash Fiction: {Window}

Yay! I'm trying to be consistent. I really am. :)

This week's prompt is "window." (If you're curious as to how I choose my prompts, it's a very complex and laborious process. Basically I look through my stock image folder and pick a photo that strikes me that day.)

So. Window. What images does this conjure up in your mind? What kind of window? Are you looking out? Or looking in? Let the word sink in, and then write the first 300 words that come together in your mind.

If you feel like sharing, post here in the comments or post on your own blog/site and link up on twitter with #mmflashfic. 

Have fun!

{Note: I COULDN'T DO IT. I couldn't keep it to under 300 words. My initial writing frenzy produced 441 words! I tried so hard to edit it down, and I only got it down to 366. So that is where it is. I will forgive any overages up to 500 words, I think.} ;)

She pulled back the lace curtain and peeked out the front window. They would be here soon. She sighed and let the curtain slip from her fingertips, closing her eyes and remembering the day her mother gave it to her 58 years ago as a wedding gift. It had hung in her front window ever since, no matter what house or apartment they'd lived in.

She shuffled away from the window and began a slow walk around the house, conjuring up memories of her life here. They'd only been in this house for the past 26 years, but it had been 26 good years. Full of life and love. 

And sadness.

It was in this house she had watched her husband transform from the strong, handsome man she had married long ago to a feeble shell of the person he had been. She had promised to love him in sickness and in health, and that is exactly what she had done. She always smiled at him, no matter what. And he always looked at her with stars in his eyes, like he was the luckiest guy in the world to have her on his arm.

Until the sparkle died and he became confused and angry, because somewhere in his mind, he knew he had lost himself. She tried to calm him. But the day he pushed her away angrily--the day she fell and broke her hip--she knew it was time to let stronger people care for him.

He died in the nursing home, three years ago.

And now she was going there, because her hip had gotten so bad she couldn't care for herself well anymore. The only reason she walked around the house now, in this last attempt to grasp fast-fading memories, was because she wanted to leave with as much independence as she'd had when she first walked through this door.

When she heard the van pull up in front of the house, and the subsequent knock, she hobbled to the door, opened it, and walked out with as much dignity as she could muster.

But she couldn't stop the tears that escaped her eyes as she left her old life behind.

{Words: 366}