They are everywhere, often going unnoticed right in front of us. Yet, there they are.
Sometimes alone, sometimes in groups, silently asking for someone to see what they themselves cannot see.

Blind windows. Blinded by human interference that is. A window is never born blind. They cannot see the children walking to school in the morning. They cannot see the sunset, which happens every single day right in front of them. They cannot see the trees growing, nor the birds pausing to rest up. They cannot see the rain raining, no, no, no and no! They cannot see anything.

Blind windows can never tell their inner selves whether it is night or day, whether the rain has stopped raining, whether the bread at the corner bakery is ready, whether it is a sunny day, whether the horizon is near or far away.

Imagine one day waking up and not being able to see life. That's what happened to them. Someone took away the magic and, in its place, a wall was raised, an air conditioner was installed, a room was enlarged.

You who’ able to do it, start looking closely at them. Sometimes they are almost imperceptible, in the same color as the façade, yet, whispering: I was here, or rather I am here but I cannot see.

Windows dream of an enlightened life, a curious child looking at the birds through its eyes, a voyeur looking at the building across the street, a curtain moving with the wind blowing through its eyes a cat waiting for its owner on its market spot
a flower soaking in the morning sun a lover making a secret visit raindrops beautifully dripping right in front of it life entering and leaving its eyes daily.