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The Window Sill

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September 23rdEdit

Every night, I sit on my window sill and do whatever puts me at ease. I own a nice, two-story house in Eugene, Oregon. Nighttime is the best time to look outside, spot constellations, relax in the cool breeze of Autumn, or even just think about life. Usually, however, I enjoy drawing and sketching out my surroundings. Because of this, my entire room is filled with sketchbooks, pencils, charcoals, oils, and many other different art supplies. All around my house are framed pictures of my art and, in my painting room, my commissions. That's how I make a living, you see. I sell my commissions for a wide array of prices; people here love them.

October 24th 

Unfortunately, this week is my last week here in Eugene. I've been accepted into Rhode Island School of Design in Providence. I'll miss my house, my neighbours, the woods around me, my painting room but, most of all, I'll miss my window sill. Sure, I may have a window sill to sit on in Providence, but it won't be the same. It won't be the same view of a portion of the city, halfway blocked off by trees. There wouldn't be the same sounds of the beloved forests I live close by. I'll miss my window sill.

October 31st

Today is my last day in my house. I've packed all of my belongings and clothes and am having my furniture shipped to my new house in Providence. I find myself sitting at my window sill. The sunlight shines on my face and I smile sadly. I feel tears forming in my eyes and look up again. Mentally saying goodbye to Eugene, I get up and back into my room. I look at the window sill, running my hand down it's white-painted wood. Whispering goodbye one last time, I begin to walk away, only to be interrupted by a paper flying into my room and settling onto the ground. I bend over to pick it up and look at it. One hand covers my mouth as tears streak down my face.

The paper reads "Goodbye Anna-Claire".

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