She couldn’t remember who the first one had been…

To her defence, it was a long long time ago. Back when she wouldn’t even notice their presence. But they were there, no doubt about that now. Where they had come from, she didn’t know. Why they had come to her, she couldn’t say. They just had.

One of life’s many mysteries…

Every night, she glimpsed their way, from her bedroom window. They never seemed to go to sleep. At least never before she did.

It was a surprise, every night. During the day, she didn’t give them much of a thought. She just didn’t have time for them while working or going about her business. But when the evening set, they just came back, haunting her.

There were men and women of all ages. And she knew them all by names.

After sunset, they all came to their windows, and stared her way. They looked desperate to get a voice, again. She felt kind of guilty no granting them that wish. They well would have deserved it, yet she didn’t have the energy to make their will come true when the day was about to end.

She could almost hear them call her name.

Pressing her palm on the cold glass pane, she wished she could take a few extra hours to lay their stories down on paper. She wanted to… So sincerely.

She grabbed a notebook and wrote down a few words… One of the silouettes turned down the lights in their apartment. Still the other characters she had come with, stared to her.

Creativity was both a gift, and a burden to her. She waved to them all from that window of her mind, hoping she could give a voice to the other’s stories soon.

At long last…

Via Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge