The Window

This post is inspired by  This weekly challenge is to write a creative piece of 100 words in response to a prompt.  This week’s prompt takes the form of a picture, below.



She sat at the window, wishing she could go outside.  The sunshine streaming through the glass in the old wooden frames cast rainbows onto her duvet as she sat in its warmth.  She longed to be free.  Her reflection stared back at her, distorted by the imperfections in the panes, an accurate portrayal of how she felt.  The sounds of other children playing by the river drifted up to her and for the hundredth time she wondered why she was not like other children.  There may be no locks, but she was imprisoned. Sighing, she turned back to her book.

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14 Responses to The Window

  1. Her stoicism is so painful to read. She can’t help asking the question over and over but then sighs and returns to her book. I just want to go there and take her outside.

  2. susankmann says:

    Lovely writing and what a nice piece. So sad, why was she imprisoned? Please carry on x

    • Hi Susan, I think she has a mad mother who doesn’t let her be a normal child, so she feels different. Thanks for your lovely comment, I’m glad you like it.

  3. Sally-Jayne says:

    When I read it I thought that maybe she was paralysed, so imprisoned by her body rather than by someone else. I really felt her pain at not being able to join the other children. Lovely piece.

  4. Robin Hawke says:

    The line about imperfections in the panes also led me to think that she was ill or crippled, Robin

    • Imprisoned more by someone else’s mental state, possibly. Imperfect because she’s made to feel that way, rather than actually is that way, possibly?

      • ventahl says:

        Ditto with SJ and Robin – thought she physically couldn’t, but seems like you meant her to be more complicated than that – think she had a tough childhood that’ll leave her with scars :(

  5. says:

    I really like this and how it made me wonder what kept her inside and apart. My only bit of feedback is the repetition of the phrase, “other children” in the one sentence. I wonder if simply using ‘them’ might have made it flow better?

  6. HonieBuk says:

    I genuinely cried when I read this Polly.

    My Step-Son is a happy and bright boy, has lots of friends and is loved so much ….. but he has CP and is unable to walk.

    Many times I have wondered how he would interpret the frustration of not getting up and tidying his own room or not having to ask if he can go where the other children go.

    The thing is he doesn’t complain ….. not about this anyway! He loves sport and football in particular and I don’t know a single person with his knowledge of the latter. He is like other 11 year old boys a cheeky chappie and I usually find myself reminding others that he has a fabulous life and is happy and to not patronise him ……..

    But this post still left me with a sadness that I could relate to (and then again, I can’t!).

    A very well written post that brought home (for me) the reality of how precious and important ‘play’ is in our children’s lives.

  7. Anna says:

    This made me feel so sad for her…why was she imprisoned in there? Made me think of the little boy in “The Secret Garden”. Beautifully written.

  8. jfb57 says:

    Oh this is such a great piece Polly. I love the distortion of the windows as well as the whole feeling of hope but hopelessness. Super writing!

  9. GSussex says:

    A sad and moving tale. I thought she had a disability perhaps, but the mad mother angle . . . poor her . . .

  10. Firefly Phil says:

    Very good use of the prompt. I, too, had envisaged some crippling disability.