'Glimpse' by Karen Jones

Out the window there’s a ballet. Girls as light and white as bandages twirl and birl and land, silent and soft as cotton wool. Out the window there’s a circus to run away with. Tip-toe trapeze artists dance dares in a darkened sky lit only by old stars. Out the window there’s a fairground festooned with flickering lights. Waltzers spin, rollers coast, goldfish gulp. Poor little fish, life cut short, but no life anyway, really. This window is dirty. Too neglected for escape, too hopeful to ignore, too easy to break. Just like you. You attempt en pointe, position held on invisible tightrope, all fluttering, faltering feet. Hold breath in effort. Flail. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. And the window moves farther away.