The window

The window was like a picture frame.
The world passed by her.
First slowly, almost unnoticeable.
Then Quicker
Now it's a blur.
Inside the house it was like a black hole.
Nothing changed, it only got darker.
Inside the house was safe however.
There were warm arms to hold her, and idea's to sustain her.
She began to forget how the window made her feel.
After a while the blur outside didn't even matter.
One day she looked up.
And there it was, the world.
Suddenly she remembered why she loved to look out the window.
A pair of warm arms wrapped around her.
She looked into his eyes, and then out the window again.
She pulled away.
He protested.
Her heart broke.
She picked up her things and put them in a small bag.
And walk out of the door.
The window was like a picture frame.
He looked out it and watch her pass him by.
She never looked though the window again, she lived.