The Condensation on the Window Pane

Dear Delyara, The heat from the small electric radiator has met the freezing night air outside, creating a thick, milky layer of condensation across the bottom half of the gatehouse window. I reached out with my index finger and drew a small, simple flower in the moisture, watching the heavy droplets form and run down the glass like slow tears. Within ten minutes, the heat from the room will erase it, turning it back into a blank, wet smudge. It’s a frightening thought—how easy it is for our small, human marks to be completely wiped out by our environment, leaving no sign that we ever sat in the dark trying to make something beautiful out of the cold.