What the Window Knows

Lexile: 1090 | Grade: 11

Passage

The window does not speak, but it listens.

It watches the seasons change—summer’s glare, winter’s breath, spring’s sudden green. It keeps its silence as children grow and voices deepen, as curtains rise and fall with arguments or laughter.

Sometimes the window is a mirror, casting back your own reflection, reminding you of the hours you’ve stood still. Other times, it is a painting, framing the world in soft watercolors or stormy streaks.

It holds fingerprints long after someone is gone. It remembers the fog of early mornings and the tap-tap of rain that came without warning.

The window cannot move, but it bears witness.

And if you ever wonder who you’ve been, sit beside it for a while. The light it lets in is not just sunlight—but memory, and time, and something like truth.