Sills

In a city without cars, where narrow lanes and quiet canals wove between old buildings, I kept noticing the windows, glimpses into an interior world. Window boxes offered the only bits of greenery we saw in the city, and the bright flowers contrasted with the soft, fading colours of the walls. I kept imagining what it would be like to live in one of these buildings — to look down at water rising in a canal, to hang wet shirts on a cotton rope, to admire vines tumbling out of the window box, or to look down at the heads of tourists as they wandered through the neighborhood, happily lost.