By Lauren
I have been writing this short story for ages. It took me a really long time to finish but finally, I did it. I'm so excited to have finally completed it, and I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it. I'm hopefully entering this one in litlinks, which is yet another writing competition. I only just managed to get it under the word limit, which for litlinks is 1,500 words. Let me know in the comments what you think!
I look out my window at the crowd of people passing through the square beneath me. They all have their own lives, are probably going different places, and if you look close enough, you can see entire stories in the tiny snapshots they show you.
This is my favourite pass-time... sitting on my window seat in my tiny apartment above the square staring at the unsuspecting strangers is the best thing I can think of to spend my time doing. This is what my life has come to, this is all I can manage after everything fell apart
An orange balloon passes by my window, drawing me from thoughts. Looking down to the square I see a young boy wearing an orange cap, orange t-shirt and orange shoes staring up at the sky. The balloon must belong to him. Clearly upset at losing it, he turns and buries his face in the skirts of a very tired looking young woman. His mother.
She pats him on the back distractedly, her mind clearly else-where. Looking through a pair of binoculars – yes, I know, sad and creepy – I notice her fingers are bare. She’s not married. That must be hard, being a single mother with a young child. Maybe she’s a widow.
But no, I know enough about grief to know this isn’t what it looks like.
The little boy, unimpressed by his mother’s lack of attention, pushes on her legs, causing her to stumble back into a young man walking behind her. He catches her, and helps her up. The poor woman looks so frazzled and embarrassed as she rights herself and apologises profusely. The man waves her off with a friendly smile. He raises an eyebrow at the boy, saying something to him. The child points up at the sky, after his balloon. The man laughs, says something to the woman, and walks into the small toy shop just behind them.
Soon, he returns with a bright orange balloon.
Two weeks later, I’m sitting on my window seat, looking out the window as per usual. A couple on a date at Café Hygge catches my attention. They look familiar and I pull out my binoculars to get a better look.
I smile to myself, recognising the single mother from a couple of weeks ago and the young man she bumped in to. I will call her Elysian, and him Serendipity. A flash of orange draws my eyes from the pair to the young boy weaving through the crowded café front towards his Mum and her date. I grin, I will call him Vad.
Elysian, Serendipity and Vad become regulars to my little square after that. I see them at least once a month, sometimes at one of the cafés or restaurants, or window shopping and walking around. I get to know them all quite well, and so do the other regulars. Elysian, Serendipity and Vad become beloved members of the community, and watching them enhance the lives of those who they meet makes me almost want to leave my window seat to go join them. The sense of yearning is almost overwhelming, but I still can’t step outside. Not yet.
Five months after Elysian and Serendipity met, they are on a late-night date at Illecebrous, the fanciest restaurant in the square, Vad isn’t with them for once.
Serendipity has a gift for Elysian, it’s sitting on his lap so Elysian can’t see it, but I can.
The night reaches its end, and Serendipity hands Elysian the present. Her eyes light up and she rips it open, revealing a collar, a lead, and a dog training guide book.
From Elysian’s reaction – jumping out of her seat to give Serendipity a massive hug – I assume this means he’s bought her a dog, and it just didn’t fit in the box, not that he thinks Vad needs to be reined in.
I used to have a dog once. Way back before… everything.
I see Elysian, Serendipity and Vad more after that, joined by an incredibly ditzy pup who I name Flâneur. She has no sense of danger whatsoever, and just meanders around, grinning at everyone with the gleeful wonder of a toddler. She and Vad get on remarkably well.
Over the next eight weeks or so, they are in the square more and more often, visiting the estate agents and homeware shops. They’re moving in together.
A few weeks later, and they’re happily living in an apartment above the toy shop opposite me. To my delight, I find out I can see right into their apartment from my window. They always look so happy, always smiling and laughing with each other. Serendipity has taken to making home movies, encouraged by the fact he found out Elysian is camera-shy. Their lives are so perfect it is bittersweet to watch. But I’ve been living my life through other people for so long, I’m used to it.
At least that’s what I told myself, but I’d been beginning to feel different. I was getting braver.
This was just a theory at first, but then my phone broke. It was only a landline, and I rarely used it… I didn’t have anyone to call. But instead of living without it, I got someone to come and fix it. And when they said they needed to come back, I didn’t panic. There was another person, in my apartment, talking to me face to face, and I would see them again. These were all things I aimed to avoid… yet here I was. I gave myself a mental pat on the back and rewarded myself with an afternoon of watching a certain three family.
Afternoons are the best for watching the family, as the windows into the kitchen and dining rooms are large and directly opposite me. Serendipity does most of the cooking, and I wonder how Elysian and Vad had survived before they met him, because Elysian is a terrible chef. She loves to try and help, but Serendipity barely trusts her to make toast. Today, though, she’s put her foot down. She and Vad are going to make dinner, and Serendipity isn’t even allowed in the kitchen… he settled for filming through the doorway.
It turned out alright… Elysian and Vad were extremely proud of it, but I saw Serendipity slip Flâneur some of the less palatable bits… they kinda burnt it.
I’m too busy smiling at the picturesque scene through the dining room window that I almost don’t notice the more daunting one in the kitchen.
The stove is on.
Paralysed, I watch the floppy paper towel aeroplane Vad had made start to curl from the heat.
I can see the smoke detector in the living room, literally in the furthest corner from the kitchen, utterly useless.
The paper towel starts smouldering.
My heartrate skyrockets, this scene is all too familiar.
Kitchens can turn into infernos so fast. So, so fast.
I have no idea where their fire escape is… if there even is one, the buildings in the square are old, and toe the line between heritage listed and complying to safety regulations, so they aren’t always up to scratch with modern standards.
My phone is broken, so I can’t call anyone. I glance at the paper towel; I have seconds to act.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m running for the front door. I almost faint when I cross the threshold, but I don’t have time for that. I can’t just watch as it happens again, not when this family has brought me the closest to caring for another person in years.
I run through the square… or try to. I haven’t done this much physical exercise in years, and have forgotten how bright the sun is… I stumble-sprint-hop through the square, calling out to people to help, but they do nothing. I don’t blame them; I probably look insane.
I keep going and soon enough, I’m in the apartment block, up the stairs and at their door.
I pause then, up until now Vad, Elysian and Serendipity have been a TV show I’m addicted to, not real people. Had their predicament not struck so close to home, I probably wouldn’t be doing this.
Refusing to dwell on that thought, I grab the fire extinguisher from the hallway and burst through the door. By this point most of the kitchen bench is alight. Tears are in my eyes – from the smoke or the memories I can’t tell – and I want to collapse. But I don’t. Instead I stand my ground, close my eyes and spray the blaze.
I stand like that for a very long time.
When I finally opened my eyes, the fire is gone and Vad, Elysian and Serendipity are standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at me. I give them a small wave, and for the first time in forever, being in the world I’d only stared at through my window doesn’t scare me.
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