Next Door

Sometimes I look outside my window and see the empty plot of land. I look at animals who’ve grown families and the overgrown vines and roots. Sometimes I imagine a house, a big one, with beautiful windows and blue bells all-round. Sometimes I look out across the plot and instead of an old run down house, there’s a window and sometimes I can see someone in that window. I don’t know who they are but something about the feeling I get when they look back at me. Makes me flutter with happiness. But at the end of the day I look out my window and see that empty plot of land with animal babies and dangerous trees. I look across and see that old run down house. There is no person who makes me feel better after a long day. There’s just empty land next door. And I leave the window.