The sun was setting, resting on the windowsill for only a few moments, its light spilling onto the bedroom floor, its golden hue illuminating an old and dusty room where dark curtains, which had once been permanently pulled across the glass panes, were now finally tucked into place beside the edges of the window, letting in the summer light. The old woman stood at the window, the pads of her fingers collecting dust as she ran them across the cool glass. Outside, the yard stretched towards the woods, the manicured grass punctured by desperate seedlings determined to rise. The trees, as ageless as they were tall, swayed in the breeze, perhaps waving at the woman, “welcome, welcome back”.
The old birdfeeder, dressed in cobwebs, stared blankly at the woman as it hung from the branch of one of the domesticated trees deliberately planted in the yard, directly across from the window where she stood. The woman thought that maybe, tomorrow, she would go out to the store and buy some bird food. It would be nice to look out the window in the morning and see birds, to listen to them twitter and flutter their wings. Maybe she would buy them a birdbath. Yes, that was exactly what she would do. Once the life insurance check came in, she would buy the most beautiful, exquisite, the most expensive birdbath she could find.
The old woman stood at the window, smiling while she thought about her birdbath, until the sun finally slipped between the trees, their shadows now reaching towards her house, waiting on the stoop at the back door. She stared out the window for just a moment longer, then stepped away and left the room, leaving the curtains pulled back.