The Future Leaks into the Past

Some days I would push my chair to the window and get angry when no one could tell that I was also a window.

Other days I’d find the window in my heart. I’d open it so all the swallows could fly out, breaking everything not amenable to the possibility of loss.

I met a few species of creatures I would be capable of loving, but more often I failed.

One day, the computer opened its mouth and swallowed the past, so all that was left of the present was a silent movie hidden behind a velvet curtain.

Only the mice found holes in the narrative and could make a sort of home there.

The rest of us just complained about the end.