Behind The Glass

It was cold outside. Through the glass, though, you could see the warmth on every surface. There was no bitter wind soaking deep into the bones in there. The glass kept the cold out; it kept me out. The glass enticed with promises of comfort. It tempted me.

But I'm naturally suspicious.

Something… something was wrong with the scene. I shivered and stared, left to right, back to front and back again. The door at the side of the building was open. I watched as people approached from the street and entered. They entered just like people would. They bought things; some then left, some stayed and ate. It looked safe. It couldn't be more normal but I had that itch at the back of my skull.

I didn't dare go in. I let the cold and my paranoia consume me and eventually I walked on by leaving everything inviting behind the glass.

Can I say for sure what was it I feared? No, not for certain. But it was probably the couple in the seats by the window playing the harmonicas badly. I don't like harmonica music.

For #WindowWednesday curated by +Jules Falk Hunter +Simon Davis-Oakley +Cheryl Cooper +Jason Kowing +J.J. Bentley +Catherine Furet

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Author: Mark

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