12/31/2025
Beatrice Goes Sightseeing
Beatrice stood sideways on the window feeling the glass. Cold.
Outside, snow dusted the trees and ice softening everything it reached. The world looked slower this way—quiet, settled, complete. Nothing moved unless it needed to.
She stayed there longer than expected, watching light reflect off the white ground. The cold pressed through the glass again, feeling it make its way up her little legs.
Behind her, the room was warm. Plants stood steady, growing, and unchanged by the season outside.
Beatrice stepped back from the window.
She did not need to be part of the winter to understand it.
Some things were meant to be noticed, not entered.
