There is the one window that I look at every time I walk toward the flight of steps that leads to my house. Looking up at the window on my way home has become some sort of a habit already. I'm not sure what am I looking at or looking for, as there is usually not a face at the window. Light blue panes framed with white metal grills. The room's usually dimly lighted by some kind of a table lamp. Sometimes it is the only room in the block which is lighted at unearthly hours in the middle of the night. Whether I'm walking home at 8pm, 1am or 3am, seeing the soft orange glows brings about some kind of familiarity. The room has been dark for a while now.
About time i get used to the absence.
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