He sat outside looking at the window every night and watched that curtain flutter on that window covering the white light that just got a chance to come out for a few seconds.
He watched that window every night.
Why that window looked so enchanting to him?
Why was he spending his evenings just looking at it and that too for hours?
There were questions he was not able to answer but still repeated the same everyday. It has been months he has shifted here and no one ever came on that window, but surly someone lived there every evening the lights were switched on.
One night it was raining, and the window was still dark, he checked it every now and then but no-one switched on the lights that evening. He waited, he hoped and he checked it once more and the lights came on. And this time curtain was not all white it had a gray shape on it. The shaped changed from some one standing still for a moment and opening her hair. The shape grew smaller and than disappeared.
He once again sat in his balcony watching that window. This time he waited for something or for someone to push that curtain and that grey patch to take a definitive shape and this time have a different colour .
The white curtain again had a shape on it a leaner one. It was a hand, which moved the curtain, with a coffee mug in it. The hand was followed by a perfect shape of a woman. A woman, like he has never seen before.
She was talking to someone over the phone, she was trying to make that person understand something then she started crying and then she disconnected.
She cried for some time more.
Then she climbed the window.
His eyes followed her. She was there in front of him. She didn't looked that pretty and that perfect shape was broken now. It was all red in that white light.
