Inspiring Ideas To Write About, Day 1: "Outside the Window"
Autor: Alasca Young | Publicado: 2016-05-09T12:36:00-03:00


Outside the Window: What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?




She woke up gradually and then suddenly. She had a weird feeling in her heart, like something inside of her has changed while she was asleep.&nbsp;

The window showed an grey sky, but she felt the light of the sun in her face - it was warm. She didn't like it, anyway, cold days are the best. It was a bit strange she woke up so suddenly, and so early, she never get out the bed 'till twelve o'clock. But what was really strange, was the she had the impression someone else was in the house with her. That was crazy, she lived all by herself in a small house her parents had left behind their deaths. It was a small and old house, but she liked her, anyway. It was kinda cute, in a way. She had this bedroom, that was still the same since she was a kid. The bed with handmade sheets. The wardrobe that was made by some friend of her father. The toys, all in boxes on top of the wardrobe. And, of course, the window, a big and old window, that she was looking at in that moment.

Anyway, she was feeling like there was someone else in the house. Inside the house was a little warm, but she kept feeling this breeze passing trough her, like someone was moving really fast or something like that. That wasn't so strange at all, she was always feeling stuff, if you now what I'm saying. One day, she was at school, long time ago, and she thought she heard someone whispering in her ears. It whispired she would have her period about five minutes from that moment. But her period only came two days after that. So, when she felt that breeze, she didn't worry. She was insane, anyway, her doctor never really said that, but you could see it in his eyes: "this girl is insane", when she told him something she thought about.

I was saying, she just stopped looking at the window, it was depressing her, she hated warm days just like she hated summer. It somehow always make her remember things she don't want to. Like her parents death. Or like that girl that she used to go out with, that was allergic to a lot of stuff and was always sneezing. That girl was really cute, but it was sort of annoying trying to talk to someone that always interrupted you to sneeze or something. Anyway, she hated warm day. It made her feel like be in the bathroom all day taking a bath and reading stupid magazines. But she had to go out that day, 'cause she needed to buy cigarettes. She hated smoking, too. But she was always smoking a lot. It made her calm down, 'cause she was always very anxious and stuff.&nbsp;

She changed her clothes, got some dough she &nbsp;had from the last article she had selled to the local news paper (oh, right, I forgot to told - she was a writer. She was always writing about stuff, there was pages with stuff writed in it in all of her things, and she survived by selling her articles to the local news paper, or some magazines that never really understood what she was trying to say in her articles. But people liked it, anyway, she was a goddamn good writer). She got out of the house and start walking to the little market that used to have down her street.&nbsp;

Once in a while, some lousy mom stopped her to ask something about her articles. "Aren't you that girl that writes to that magazine?", they would say. And she was getting so bored of it she was even thinking of stop selling her stuff and go work with something else. She could be a teacher, she would make a good teacher. But only for small kids, of course, those goddamns teenager are a pain in the ass.&nbsp;

It was a grey sky and warm day, when she crossed the street and a buss hit into her body.&nbsp;

And, gradually then suddenly, she stopped to think about being a teacher. She stopped to think about the cigarettes. She stopped to think about anything, to be true, 'cause she no longer could think.

It was a grey sky and warm day, the day she died. It wasn't summer, at least, she would be happy if she could know that she died in autumn. I bet she would.&nbsp;