Today's 100 words:
From where I'm sitting, I can see right into my neighbor's open window--which means, of course, that my neighbors can see right into mine. Since I was a child, I've loved walking through town as the night has just started to fall and people have turned on the lights inside their homes, revealing little snapshots of domesticity to anyone observing from the outside: families eating dinner; children watching TV; mothers and fathers with their feet up after a long day, reading. The pictures aren't always idyllic, of course, but they are always real: wonderful, unedited glimpses of life.
From where I'm sitting, I can see right into my neighbor's open window--which means, of course, that my neighbors can see right into mine. Since I was a child, I've loved walking through town as the night has just started to fall and people have turned on the lights inside their homes, revealing little snapshots of domesticity to anyone observing from the outside: families eating dinner; children watching TV; mothers and fathers with their feet up after a long day, reading. The pictures aren't always idyllic, of course, but they are always real: wonderful, unedited glimpses of life.
