Windows
Inquiry I admire it. My window has an audience. A picture frame of a poem gifted as an off-to-college present from my mother; a duet of flasks, one tall and skinny, the other short but wide; a metal cup with a handle, perfect for tea and water; my ivy plant, whose leaves number more than seven times the initial five it started with when I brought it to Brown. Behind the main characters of the stage—the foreground—is the unsuspecting setting....