The window resembled something from a time gone by. Wavey glass, well worn shutters rusted in place, and the layered paint flaking off onto the well worn ground below. The specks making a haphazard mosaic on the barren ground were gently rearranged with the stagnant breeze of a passing car. This window had been a view out to the dusty road for nearly 63 years.
The generations that have come and gone during this time had layered paint so that that in some places the wind and the rain had to scour away through 13 different shades of gray. The window had originally be painted paper white, and over time, with each new owner attempting to match the first paint sample, it became one shade darker with each re-do. This story only discernible through the chips on the ground.
With the foundation of the house slowly settling unevenly, the window was no longer set square to the ground, giving its appearance a slightly cock-eyed look. The old glass had an effect of blurring the edges of the mail box and the giant cottonwood across the street. Making visions through the window lend themselves to the surrealistic imaginations of anyone who shot a passing glance in its direction. The effect was a clarity of vision that startled most who looked through it...