Behind the glass

There was an elderly lady just now, who stood behind a tall glass pane, with both arms stretched out above her head. It looked as if she was imprisoned and wanted to escape. Yet, all she could do was to watch from inside the house the children running through the playground, their mothers telling them to slow down, the dogs sniffing a shifty bush, a soccer ball being kicked, and finally, her coevals resting at the benches and watching the birds swoop down for a seed then take off at the slightest movement of a foreign object. She laments how her life has passed so quickly. All good memories are beginning to fade. Once she was in that playground too, dashing from pole to pole with her friends, but now she stands behind a tall glass pane; not allowed to leave because of an illness that exacerbates the ripples of tiny bacteria. I don’t think any of that is true. She was probably just stretching her arms.


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