Day 328

The view from her window was not the street.
Every window she looked through showed her a different angle of some place.
It was always the same place, never the same time.
Like she was seeing it throughout its history.

The first time she saw that place it was from her bedroom window.
What was once a car park now showed her a courtyard being built.
She had first thought it was just that window but it soon spread to every window she encountered.
The further it spread the older the place got - people came and went in all manner of clothing.

She did some research and based on that this place had been around for almost five hundred years.
That narrowed it down as did the architecture, if she found the actual place maybe it would all stop?
She missed being able to drive but the latest spread meant that even car windows showed rooms.
What she saw was in some windows narrowed it down to an asylum - all those poor people tortured.

She avoided windows as much as possible, it was too heartbreaking to see so many people suffer.
The windscreen in her car used to show her one patient there who looked right back at her.
He would sit on the floor and smile at her, even write messages to her on the ground.
Sure he used his own blood but she learnt so much from him in those few weeks he was there.

He told her where she could find that place and even how to get in past the gates.
She never suspected anything, she just wanted to stop seeing the asylum and put it all to rest.
It was forty miles from her home, thank god a train ran a few miles south of it.
From the train window she saw the building being overrun with ivy, it was in use at that time.

The walk filled her with trepidation - what if people were still there?
How could she explain that she needed to put these visions to rest so she could get on with her life?
These musings took up the hour long walk to the place that had been haunting her for almost a year.
Funny, it seemed to much bigger in the windows.

She soon stood before a large mansion home, remodelled countless times but always with the same
purpose, always to 'cure' and 'heal' and always full to the brim with poor souls.
Now it was just a shell of its former occupation, empty and decaying.
She peered through the glass window of the front door and saw her garden.