It was a sight to see, that world in the window. A place with no limits, no boundaries, nothing to stop it from growing and growing, a world left untouched and unscathed with nothing to shape it— Nothing but a little boy, Emlos. But there was a problem, see, he was on the opposite side of that window, the window which allowed both worlds a place to see but not meet. He couldn’t reach inside and touch this place and he couldn’t let it reach inside and touch his. The world outside never stopped, after all, it only grew, and he feared he would get in trouble if his parents just downstairs saw a little of that world leak into this one.

And so he sat everyday by that window dreaming of opening that window and walking through, shaping the world and making it his own with no one to share it with. “One day,” he promises, “One day.” But that one day was dwindling away. As the little boy grew the growth of that world soon slowed to a stop. The boy couldn’t know though, for that world had expanded far from where his eyes could reach And even further than he thought it could go.

But soon enough, soon enough the boy saw the decay, the disappearances, the spots of what could’ve been. He saw the world started to die, he saw that it began to slowly kill itself. And he thought, for just a moment, “Could I help it bloom?” And so, that boy in the window opens the entrance wide, climbing inside and beginning to shape what can be. Quickly does that world leak into his, and does his world leak into theirs, creating a beautiful concoction of what’s made and what can be made.

That world in the window, he soon discovered, wasn’t just for him. It was for everyone, his parents, his friends, even strangers he never caught the name of. After all, what would the world be like if there were no ideas to share?