What's In a House
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Was sitting in a pub on the main street the other day and looking across the road to the first floor at the curtains swinging in the breeze. Swinging out an open window, my mind was drawn into what goes on behind those curtains.
The weather-worn, eroded and baked, straight and tall chimney stands.
Defiant.
Disused.
Below, a window.
A window with a screen with a gap for a curtain. The curtain that flutters and shakes then rests against a cold hard wall.
This curtain of life hides secrets. Secrets only discussed with the wind.
What goes on behind these curtains? Under this chimney? Is there fun, is there happy, is there dull, is there bored? Are there chairs, are there beds, are there desks, are there people?
A chimney, a curtain, a wall, and a thought all there to see on the first floor of the main, across from the pub, lit by day.
We know the secrets, we know the private.
We’re blind to these thoughts from the invisible first floor.
Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2015
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