There was nothing interesting about the car ride to Wisconsin, sitting in the back seat while listening to the low murmurs of Josh and Chris' conversation under the muffled music playing.
With nothing to do, I felt gravity taking hold of my eyelids. I locked my elbow on the windowsill and rested my cheek on the knuckles of my limp hand.
I awoke to a world tinted in red. The sunset cast a stream of pink on everything, and dim white lights blinked rhythmically past the car from the streetlights, turned on in preparation for the darkness to come.
I began to watch the city go by.
Still, nothing interesting... until I saw the red curtain.
Driving past an apartment building, which seemed pretty ordinary a sight, I caught glimpse of a window with a red curtain.
Conceivably it was because of how distinct this particular window was from the others, but it drew my attention. I was struck by the thought of life going on in that window, behind that red curtain. Perhaps a family, struggling to make ends meet. Maybe a student attending a small college nearby, spending her Friday evening preparing for an upcoming exam. Possibly a young man who just found a job, living independently for the first time.
In the flash of the lives which might exist beyond that window with red curtain, my perspective grew to the entire structure: life going on in every room.
A family of four just starting dinner, because Dad worked late again. A young man passing the girl who lives a few doors down in the stairway, as she leaves for her yoga class. A couple living together, getting into their first real argument. A lonely man, sitting on his bed contemplating suicide. A single father and his little girl watching TV on the couch. An alcoholic woman drinking her third glass of the evening.
Isn't it beautiful how much life there is going on everywhere? Every person as complex as yourself: in every car driving on the interstate with you, in every building you pass as you drive to the city...
Incredible.
