art, fiction

Outside my Window 7:26 – 7:59 P.M.


A man is standing by the cars outside my window, smoking. He is not a man, really, younger. A boy. But he is wearing a suit like a man. I don’t think it is his car, it is nice. Something with an animal for an emblem. But then again, it is a nice suit.

Turns out it is his car. It seems he didn’t want to smoke in his nice car. He must be a man.

A boy in an orange shirt; bright orange. Oranger than orange, the orange of a blind, elderly fashionista. He is standing in front of the market across. There is no telling what he will look like when he is older. He is wearing glasses, his hair is a mess. One day, he will see, I won’t. Oh well, he went inside.

A woman pushes her daughter on a silly looking carriage. It is shaped like a bike, with a fat seat. She is eating ice cream, the little girl. The mom has a small boy in the other hand; jealous of his sister, probably. I would be.

A whole group. A messily clothed slog of meat walk by. A disturbing amount of floral shirts are among them, despite age. They’ve passed.

A woman in heels heads into the market. I can hear them click from here. I am on the second floor, across.

Two twenty-somethings and a girl in a gray dress stand outside the middle eastern restaurant beside the market. She is smoking, they aren’t. One of the men has his hair up in a bun. I don’t like that, I don’t know why.

The young man in the nice suit and nice car has been sitting a while outside. In the air-conditioning, most likely. It is a decent day. A woman just got in. I only just noticed his scarf, it is floral, too. They are driving away now. It his nice car with an animal emblem, like a leopard, but without spots. They are gone, off somewhere nice, I suppose.

A man walks with his girlfriend in one hand. Not his whole girlfriend, of course, just her hand. In the other he holds a skateboard. It is bright orange, but, at least he is wearing sunglasses.

A girl in an orange scarf passes with her friend. It is a sensible orange, more sluggish. She is talking with her hands outstretched, holding an invisible ball. I can only imagine.

An Asian looking an with blue streaks through his hair passes, drinking Gatorade. It is blue, too.

A man in lime green shoes, violent green, sour–a sour, sour green–he walks by. I can’t see the rest of hm.

A truck just went by. It was dirty, so dirty. The men in the front look dirty; in a good way, an almost-dangerous sort of way.

A woman, carrying her blanket walks by. The blanket is checkered. Black and orange; soft. Two boys, one bigger, one smaller, chase her on bikes. I don’t think she realizes the chase is on. She finds the right song.

A woman walks out of the market. I didn’t see her go in. She isn’t a woman–really, few are. She has a fat face. I wonder why that is all I can see, I hope she sees more.

A girl, maybe three, or four, just ran by, calling for something, or someone.

A man–I think it’s a man–walks by holding a painting. I can’t see the painting. His hair is frizz. He turns. It isn’t a man.

The man I buy coffee from in the morning walks on by. He has very long hair, messy. Off he goes, in the wrong direction of where I’d expect him to be.

The girl, the one who might be four, has found her mother. She is quiet now.

A younger man, a less well dressed one, stands across, he is on the phone. He looks like the boy in the orange shirt. It turns out he won’t be all that handsome after all.


9 thoughts on “Outside my Window 7:26 – 7:59 P.M.

  1. Pingback: Outside my Window: 7:26 – 7:59 P.M. – Flash 365

  2. noonespecial says:

    You are a good, nasty observer ..A messily clothed slog of meat walk by. A disturbing amount of floral shirts are among them….but I love it just to follow each single idea…

    Liked by 1 person

    • haha yeah, part of this is also just to see what I would see. How I see things is not always what is happening. I just tried to write what I saw as honestly as possible despite some nasty thoughts.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Yeah it was a bit random. I actually have about 8 more pages of observations. I do it periodically. but today I just moved my desk next to the window so I’ll probably we doing it more. Thought about starting up a separate blog where I just put up what is going on outside my window each day and Nikita would draw too. But, we just don’t have enough time for both projects.

      Liked by 3 people

  3. Absolutely brilliant concept and writing. We’ve all done this but you have made the words that we didn’t. As a visual artist the equivalent for me is making gesture drawings while people watching.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you very much. That means a lot to me. I didn’t think much of it. It is something I do in order to practice writing descriptions. My desk looks right out on the street. I kind of realized that my descriptions were showing more than what was going on. They were showing also how I perceive what is going on. Without realizing it I noticed a lot of things about what was catching my eye. I just tried to write as honestly as possible. Thank you for commenting and letting me know. It is encouraging. I think I’ll open my blinds for a bit.

      Liked by 2 people

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