The Window Journal

Lexile: 1230 | Grade: 9

Passage

Milo didn’t travel much. His world stretched from his school to his apartment and back again, five days a week. But from the fourth-floor window of his bedroom, he had a view of a small corner of the city—an intersection where people crossed, paused, argued, laughed, and sometimes just stood still.

It started as boredom. One rainy afternoon, with nothing to do and homework avoided, Milo opened a notebook and began to write what he saw. *Man in red coat. Holding umbrella. Doesn’t cross.* Then, a few minutes later: *Same man. Now walking away. Phone in hand. Looked disappointed?*

Over time, he gave the people nicknames—'The Plant Lady' who carried something green every week, 'Mr. Stopwatch' who always checked his wrist, even when there was no traffic. But it wasn’t just about observing. Milo started wondering: *Where are they going? Why do they come back to the same place? What happened before they got here?*

As the journal filled, Milo noticed more than just people. He noticed how the light hit the pavement differently after rain. How some cars rolled by in silence, while others seemed to roar with purpose. How the world below him wasn’t random—it moved with patterns, emotions, rhythms he hadn’t seen before.

One day, a classmate asked him what he did for fun. Milo hesitated, then said, 'I keep a journal of the world outside my window.' She laughed, but not unkindly. 'That’s weird… but kind of cool.'

The journal never turned into a novel. He didn’t post about it online. But months later, when his teacher assigned an essay on perspective, Milo wrote about the man in the red coat—and how not knowing his story taught him to look more closely at everyone’s. He ended with a line he hadn’t planned: *Maybe understanding the world starts with paying attention to just one small piece of it.*