I wonder

I Wonder By Madison White

As my mind drifts forth and back and forth and back and forth and back  - 
In a cycle 
that never seems
to end.

And as my soul seeks out the hope, the end, the hope, the end, the hope, the end - 
on a graph 
that can not 
begin.

As my feet take me far and near and far and near and far and near and far - 
Down a trail 
of endless walking,
without halt.

And as my hands silently reach and grasp and reach and grasp and reach and grasp - 
Yet it all 
Slides through, lost
my grip. 

As I begin to feel the hurt, the pain, the sorrow, the grief - 
That has avoided 
And eluded me 
For years. 

And I begin to feel the things oh the things and the things, oh the things and the things - 
the world offers
Yet no thing 
Satisfies 


So still 
I wonder 

Life likes to move in circles. Well, I guess it could move in triangles. Or Squares. But that means it could move in Rectangles too, right? Along with hexagons or pentagons. Or maybe it moves like dice, showing a different face for different scenarios. 

Nevermind. Let me start over. 

 

Life Moves. 

 

How about that. It’s that simple. Life moves.

It moves in any and every way possible. It moves backwards, forwards, frontwards, toward-wards, high-wards, round-wards, and loop-de-loop-wards. It will shove you through some doors and yank you out of others. It will hurl you into windows or fling you up chimneys or make you crawl up blistering stairs. But it doesn’t let you stop. 

Granted, it may slow to the pace of a snail, dragging you, day in and day out. But other times it may keep you shooting about like a rocket ship on a racecourse, making sharp, jarring turns and baffling you with the fact that your ride has yet to fall and flip over – even though you thought for many a time that it was going to anyway. 

But I’ll say it again –  Life Moves. 

 

And that poem, titled I Wonder, is about what happens when someone who had inwardly become numb was finally gifted their feeling back into their cold body. Correction, they finally wanted to be able to feel again.  

But they found they were unsatisfied. They found that what they had tried so hard to escape from, still existed. And the poem ends on that note. 

 

So let me ask a question:   Did you relate to that poem?  Did it remind you of someone?   And are you going to fall into despair again after seeing that you might not always find what you are looking for?  

Or are you going to continue to allow yourself to hold tight to what you have regained, to let life guide you, and continue to feel – even if it hurts. 

Chapter 1 for the NaNoWriMo Challenge!

So for those who don’t know what NaNoWriMo is – it stands for National November Writing Month! It is when authors plan in October and write a complete novel in just one month! There is an entire website dedicated to this kind of thing (here’s the link if you want it).  

But written below is the first chapter of a novel (name TBD) that I am writing with the website! I hope you’ll enjoy it and comments are welcomed!

Chapter 1: Water hemlock 
     Tod squats down, pointing at a small but fairly tall purple splotched plant that   had large triangular lacy leaves and multiple small clusters of tiny white flowers and calling out to his sister, Milly, to grab his leather-bound blank field journal, a pencil, and the old worn herbal book that he had sat on the ground over by the backdoor, along with his side-saddle leather bag that was just inside the door of the squint. 

     She jumped from where she had been standing behind him with a great gush of wind rustling the sibling’s hair and clothes as Milly pulled her magnitude of silky brown feathers out from the magical tattoos on her back. She spun on her heel and took a few steps away from her older brother - then she launched herself into the sky. 

     She flowed the small winding river creek back to the cottage, skimming just above the trees with her hair and her dress flapping in her face and swirling around in the wind. It was a very short distance for her, being able to sail on the wind instead of climbing over the large mushroom-infested roots of trees, crossing the clear and minnow filled creek, or stumbling up and down flowered and mossy covered hills. She gently dipped down and softly landed in the clearing just behind their home, pulling in her wings once she had settled on the ground. 

     She lightly ran up to the patio, past her aunt Raka (who was reading a new book on illusions), and pushed open the window-like door to the greenhouse. She leaned inside and grabbed Tod’s bag; then she walked by the back door, crouched down, and picked up tod’s stack of books. She then came and stood in front of her aunt, curious at a sight she hadn’t noticed before - her little brother Vory had found his way to the top of the roof of the cottage again and was preparing to jump off. 

     Milly pointed this fact out to Anut Raka and then ran over to the clearing. She pulled out her wings, causing the neatly cut grass beneath her feet to tremble in the wind her wings created and jumped into the air.

     After Milly had told Anut Raka the Vory was on the roof, aunt Raka placed her book in her lap (keeping her thumb between the pages) and looked up. 
“I’m ready Vory.” 
      She continued looking up, hearing the pounding of the young boy’s feet as he ran towards the edge of the roof. Raka watched as her nephew jumped over her head - and landed on the ground in front of her as a tiny grey fox with brown and black markings. She smiled, applauding, and praising his flawless transformation and his careful landing. 

      The tiny grey fox bounded over to his aunt’s feet and began to pat her on her leg. She picked her book off her lap; Vory wigged his tail and back legs to pounce and jumped up onto his aunt’s lap. She stroked his soft fur and wondered what her other nephew and niece were up to. 

      Milly dropped down through the trees and quickly slowed her fall with a couple quick flaps, creating a few bursts of air. She pulled her wings in, fixed her clothes and hair, and headed over to Tod. He was now sitting cross-legged under a tree with the river gently bubbling behind him. His spot was close to the plant he had found earlier, and he was chewing on some blackberries he had found while Milly was gone. 

      “Here’s your things.” Milly said, setting the bag down by what she thought was the plant from earlier and walking over toward Tod. She plopped down beside him and laid her head in his lap, closing her eyes.

 “Tod. I’m taking a nap now.” 

He sighed, stroking his fingers through her soft, silky brown hair. “Can I at least get my book?”

A grin spread across her face. “No.”

He sighed again. 

Milly sifted her shoulders, getting comfortable. “Did you think of what the plant is called?”

“Yeah. Water Hemlock. The whole plant is poisonous.” He reached up and tucked some of his sandy-grey hair that had fallen from his low ponytail behind his ear. “It grows by branching out, while the things it is mistaken for grow more straight up and aren't purple-ish. It likes to grow in wet marshy places like ditches, beside rivers and recently flooded fields - If I remember correctly.”

She glanced up at her brother. “You always remember.” 

He thought for a moment. “True.”

They sat without saying anything more, reveling in each other’s presence for a time. The sounds of the forest swelled to fill the silence, creating a soothing sound for both of them. 

“If my wings pop out, you can pet them if you want.” Milly said as she snuggled her shoulder into his thigh, not bothering to hide her smug smile. 

He looked down at her with a soft smile on his face, still petting her head.

“Of course.”

Get2College Notes

For those of you who are interested, these are my notes from the Zoom with Get2College. They also have a lot of helpful resources on their website, if you want to look them up – https://get2college.org/

Speaker: Tory Holloway     –    (contact info)  tholloway@get2college.org

When looking for your College Fit, remember to consider these: 

  • 2 yr  –  4 yr 
  • Offered programs 
  • Campus resources 
  • Affordability
  • Size: student-to-faculty ratio 
  • Location and Housing
  • Extracurricular Activities

Opportunities to help you decide:

  1. Be friends with/get to Know the school recruiters (this one, in particular, can help you in so many ways later on. Like if the school you are interested in has certain scholarships or something, you can ask them about it.)
  2. Virtual College Fairs (a great chance to learn more about a school)
  3. Campus visit opportunities.  (whether in person, fly-overs, or virtual, it is helpful to visits schools in advance.)

Some Financial Aid plans:  

  • Outside Aid – scholarships from local support, like a bank, or scholarships from national support, like a food chain company.  (you can check the scholarships on Get2College,)
  • {Private scholarships}
  • College Aid – scholarships from the college itself
  • Federal Aid – MTAG (15 ACT / 2.5 GPA), MESG (29 ACT / 3.5 GPA), HELP (20 ACT / 2.5 GPA)
  • Mississippi Aid – HELP (20 ACT / 2.5 GPA)

{You can only apply for scholarships if you are a Senior.}

 ACT Prep resources:

Requirements for some public 4-yr Colleges in Mississippi:  

  • 3.2 GPA  +  CPC
  • 16 ACT   +   2.5 GPA  +  CPC
  • 18 ACT   +  2.0 GPA   + CPC

Take the ACT multiple times – then collages can calculate a SuperScore. 

A SuperScore is when schools take your highest scores from each section and create a new score, forming the highest possible composite ACT score. (also applies to SAT)  IT IS SUPER HELPFUL. SO TAKE the ACT A BUNCH OF TIMES! 

I hope this was helpful. If I missed a piece of information, or you have something that people could benefit from, please post it down in the chat below!

Cease

When the sky’s full of clouds

There’s nothing to see

The crickets are loud

And there’s no one but me


When the rivers fall quite 

And the wind seems to roar

When nothing is light

And life is a chore


Go to the woods

The middle of here

Just breathe in the good 

And let out your fear 


Then the night ends in peace

And all starts to cease

 

This is a poem I wrote when I was looking for some peace in my life. I actually wrote it while I was out on a walk through the 30- acres that my family used to own. the sky had already turned dark and the stars were just coming out, but I couldn’t get any sleep. So I grabbed my phone, a sweatshirt, slipped on my converse, and decided to go walking in the dark – through the woods, to the open clearing, at night, with only my phone to right the way. well, it was a full moon, that night so I didn’t actually need to use my phone flashlight. 

So I was walking along this path, in the dark, with the moon being bright enough to see. The crickets were the loudest thing around and the only sound I could hear. It hadn’t rained for a while, so the path was pretty dry and covered in a mix of small rocks, dead crunchy leaves, and dead brown pine straw.  Plus it’s Mississippi, so most of the trees were super tall evergreen pine trees looming over my path, mixed with other kinds of trees that I don’t know the names of.  

After walking for a couple of minutes, I arrive at the clearing to the back of our 30- acres of land. The stars are fully out by this point and I was able to pinpoint where the little and big dippers were in the dark, hazy sky. And so I just stood in the clearing, letting the calm of the woods wash away my worry. 

Eventually, it got super cold, (plus there were coyotes howling a little ways off and I was alone in the dead of night. it got freaky fast.) and my plan had worked. I felt very much relieved as I walked back to my house. Walking in the woods at night can be very peaceful. 

The Grim Reaper

In a dungeon of Hell

i sit in the corner, dark and cold,  
questioning why i do as i’m told.
wondering bout this room of mine,
asking why the sun won’t shine. 

the door unlocks and gets flung open,
and there stands Hades, so outspoken.
He throws my scythe and hands my robe,
telling me “Go fetch a soul!”

i wonder out, but where to go?
when suddenly i sense a soul.
the soul is old but newly dead,
i’m wondering if he was wed.

i hold my scythe, and aim to swing.  
Oh why does this keep happening?
i smile sadly, poised to strike.
and think ‘don’t work’ with all my might. 

Hades calls me back i can’t evade.
he bids me back into my cage.
left no comp’ny but the dark,
till the next time i depart.

so here i’m tapped inside this room 
where not even flowers choose to bloom
and here i’m stuck with hades my keeper
even though, i am, the Grim Reaper. 

 

I wrote this poem based on an assignment I was given in class. The goal was to write from the Antagonist (aka the villain) point of view. To make the reader feel for and relate to the ‘bad guy’ in the story. I choose to do the Grim Reaper. He might seem like a bad guy to most, but I think our generation has turned him into something softer. And a little more kind. In my poem, Death (whose job title is Grim Reaper) is sorta being held prisoner by Hades. Hades needs somebody to go and collect souls, doesn’t he? I mean, it’s not like he could go out onto the world and get those souls himself, right? But Hades prefers to just do the paperwork. So he has Death go do it instead. 

Now, Death is being kept locked away for a reason. It’s his punishment. See Death is Death, but he is not in charge of when or where people die. That’s The Fate’s job. He just collects the souls. And remember, this was before he has put under Hade’s guardianship. This story happens during the time he is still allowed to roam the earth freely.

Death would come and give collect souls of all sorts. He did his job well and kept track of the souls he gathered. Then he would send them to Hades using a shadow dog he conjured up as the messenger. But one day, when he was collecting a fairly old woman’s soul, the soul asked if he would look out for her young grandchild. For the sake of helping the soul find peace, he agreed. 

Later when his shadow dogs came back from a delivery to Hades, Death noticed that one of them had a note tied to its collar. Death unrolled the piece of paper to find that Hades was telling him to keep his promise. And so Death began to take care of the little girl.

He showed up at the house the old woman had lived in to find the little girl trying to wake her grandmother. The little girl had tears streaming down her cheeks, so Death asked one of his hounds to lick her face to try to cheer her up.  But after receiving a giant slobbery kiss from the Shadow dog, she was gifted with Special Sight and was now able to see Death and his dogs. The little girl, who been crying at her cold grandmother’s side since the night before, threw herself at Death, wrapping her tiny arms as best she could around his waist and clutching his robe tightly in her itty-bitty hands. Death tried to comfort her as best he could, but he was Death and had little experience dealing with emotions like grief. 

 

And that is where I will stop this story for this blog post. If you want to know what happens next, comment below and let me know!

Chapter 2: a Raven

This is a continuation of my past blog “Son of a Witch and a Raven”        Hope ya’ll enjoy!!!  

       I  waited outside while my wife gathered her ingredients. we were in a small, cliff-side port town, one of the many stops along their journey. we were traveling to find somewhere we could call home. Somewhere good for a coming little one.  My wife stumbled out of the Witchery store, barely able to support all of her newly bought herbs, charms, and spellbooks. I rushed forward and took most of her burden, giving her a soft smile. She grinned back at me – giddy to try out her new spell. We rode out of the town in our wagon until we found an open field next to a small creek. My wife jumped off and pulled out supplies – organizing her ingredients and tools as she set up camp – allowing me to unhitch the horses and take them to the creek for a drink.

          An explosion went off in the direction of camp and I didn’t hesitate to start running. I stumbled out into the clearing to see her, down on her knees by a blackened spell circle, cradling something in her arms, surrounded by bandits. No, not bandits – they were too organized. They were more like soldiers.  I went back into the woods unseen, retreating to the horses. I began to strategize, heading back to the clearing to see how I could outsmart the soldiers. My mind drifted, thinking, why they were here? Then it hit me.

            In the last town, there were posters of a reward – for witches. I shook my head and refocused, thinking of ways to save my wife. If I surprised them, I’d have the upper hand – but I would still be outnumbered. Negotiating? Probably not. Stalling? No. A distraction? Yes – that could work. I turned to the two horses, spooked one off in the direction of the soldiers and brought the other one closer to where my wife was. I hoisted myself up and urged my steed forward, calling her name, and leaning out to grab her. She jumped – I swooped her onto the horse and bolted down the road.                                                                                                                                                 

               My wife and I pushed that poor horse hard, getting as far away from the soldiers as we could. My wife would find water using her herbal knowledge, and I would go hunting using a spear I had fashioned. My curiosity of what she held in her small bundle of cloth grew as we traveled, but I knew not to ask. If she wanted me to know she would tell me. She cared for it, whatever it was, and I noticed that she would hold it close, whisper to it, and sing it a song. But I never saw her do anything else. Plus there was another odd thing – it made no noise. We traveled for a little over two weeks, until we crossed into another town. Although wary, we continued like we always had. My wife found a job cooking or making medicine, and I would find a crafting or labor job to do. We stayed in this town for about a month, then we bought a small, old wagon and supplies to continue on our way.

              I sat on the edge of the wagon, watching my wife try out her newest spell. She had drawn a circle in the dirt earlier that morning and placed her odd bundle in the center. Then she surrounded it with different herbs/charms. She took the pot of boiling liquid she had prepared earlier and poured it on the bundle, turning the circle into a muddy goo hole. She gathered more herbs and placed them at certain places – then she took a step back, put her hands on her hips, and announced “It’s done!”. She turned to me with a smile and told me that now, we just wait for the moon. 

           My wife fell asleep soon after, so I stayed up to guard her circle from night-creatures. It was late, and with sleep weighing on my eyes, I began to doze off.     CRACK    I startled awake, looking around for the source of the sound, but nothing was there.      CRACK       I heard it again, from the direction of her circle. Yes, the sound was definitely coming from the goopy circle! I called my wife, running to wake her up. I shook her awake, telling her about what I heard. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, mumbling about a good dream – but then she bolted up, realizing what I had said. She grabbed his arm and dragged me back out to stand beside her circle. 

            She was bursting with contagious excitement, bouncing on her toes and grabbing his arm hard enough to leave marks. She was whispering things under her breath as if talking too loudly would ruin the moment. One phrase that I heard on repeat was “We’re gonna be parents!” The cracking sound grew louder and more frequent, and the goopy mud started bubbling like it was boiling. And then, the miracle happened. The Moon came out from behind the clouds and shined directly on the circle, like a spotlight. With a bright flash of light, it was gone.

             My wife sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face, while the husband just stood in awe. There in the middle of the circle, laying on top of the bundle of cloth, was a tiny, healthy, pale, baby boy, sleeping peacefully. She crawled forward, tenderly reaching out her shaking hands to pick up that fragile, baby boy. Her husband knelt beside her, cradling her and their new child. She was still sobbing, holding the child close and running her fingers through his thick midnight black hair. I hugged them tighter, whispering, “you did it.”, to my wife as his own eyes blurred with tears. She looked up at him, smiling and said “yeah … I did.”

  

 

Son of a Witch and a Raven

“Hi, my name is Lam, and I live in a small port in the Jaz-cliffs, at the end of civilization – hey, bring back my camera Ki! It’s still recording!”


He took off, holding my camera up like a trophy. My cousin had stolen my camera, again. humph. It wasn’t even lunch and he’s already making me run today. I rounded the corner and – Oof – slammed straight into his backside. Such is my luck. “Ki, why’d  you have to go and make me -”  He spun around, held his hand to my mouth and motioned to be quiet. He mouthed, “Black coats.” and then gave back my camera.

 

We looked back around the corner to see where the black coats were going, but they had already left. “We need to go tell your momma.” He mouthed. I nodded and we ran back, stopping to hide from black coats, and made it without being seen. “Last one in tells?” He asked, pausing to look at me. I started running.

~~~

“So you boys are telling me there’s black coats outside?” Momma asked, putting herbs in bags. I nodded. “Well, let’s hurry then.” I was helping her and Ki was hiding our things under the floors, when the door started rattling. The Black coats were here. 

 

Momma shoved the bags into my arms and stareered me toward the hidden tunnel. Then she went back for Ki. I opened the trap door in the wall and jumped down. Our house was built in the cliffs, so we had direct access to all the caves and tunnels – some lead to the port or another town, but those were boarded up. 

 

The one I was in now had traps, and you could only avoid them if you knew about them. I heard the door open and spun around, relieved to see Momma and Ki. Then she took the lead, avoiding traps as we went, and walking as careful as a cat. 

 

Eventually we came to our ‘safe cave’. It had access to the sea, and the only enter or exit was the tunnel. The lighting was good, and we grew all kinds of herbs and food down here. I also had built a system that turned saltwater into freshwater and salt.

 

Some nights we’d make a fire, and Momma would tell us stories about all the monsters and mayhem in the world outside our small, little town. She would tell of the Order of the Ravens, who scavenged the lands trying to snuff out witchery, or the Order of Nights, who would steal from kings and give treasures away the next day. And the mercenaries called The Giants, who were said to be as strong as titans.  

 

We would stay in our safe cave long enough to make sure the black coats never found my momma, and then we’d go back to our house. But this time, someone was waiting. A man in a black coat, a raven mask, and a torch, standing in front of my burning house. My father.

Take A Challenge

Does anybody else ever just want to retire from sight? Like, just for a moment, disappear or vanish, maybe pause time? 

I think it is a normal way to react to stress. It’s a normal way to react to pressure. I think its normal to want to escape from a hard situation. 

But there are also good ‘hard situations’. Like all these classes at MSA. For a lot of people, its probably a new challenge, a welcomed change from the standard boring and slow school work we would be getting at our old schools. Well, it’s like that for me anyway. 

I know that I had been complaining to my mother how bored I would get in class, just filling in the blanks, feeling as if I hadn’t learned a thing. Now all of a sudden – BAM! – I’m at a school for the Arts!! The one thing that most regular schools never seem to deem important! And during the drive up here when coming for my auditions, my mom had reminded me of all the times I had wished for a challenge. She told me “You asked for a challenge, now you’re bout to get one!” 

My point is, I took a risk, a very nerve-racking, stressful, and very much straight-out-of-the-blue risk. And yes, I’m getting the challenge I asked for. Yes, I’m staying up way past an appropriate bedtime. And yes, I have absolutely no time management skills and end up doing all my projects the day before they’re due (a bad habit I know, but I’m working on it).  But I’m going to say “IT IS WORTH IT!!!!!!!!” 

And as I sit here – in my super-duper penguin-freezing room, snuggled under my blankets because the thermostat won’t make it warmer – writing this the night before it’s due, I realize that I have met so many new, exciting, and bizarre people, tried cafeteria food on a daily bases, and have teachers who go so far to make sure we, as students of MSA, have every opportunity available to go farther than we could ever dream. 

Elephants

Once upon a time, there was a frog. And this frog was purple.

Kidding!! The fact that there is a purple frog is irrelevant. I just thought I’d tell you. 

The actual story goes like this:

She hid in the corner, hugging her toy, knees drawn to her chest. Her parents had been fighting for hours, believing her to have already been asleep. She sniffed and pulled her special elephant closer, whispering in its ear, “take me away from here.” Soon her eyes became heavy, weighed down by her hopes and wishes. She began to drift and doze, now fast asleep in the corner.  

A soft breeze, as gentle as a mother, brushed across her face, and she woke up to find, to her astonished surprise, a land unlike any other. And as she lay there, a gray blob began to approach her from a little ways away. But it was just her elephant! Her elephant scooped her up with his trunk and placed her on his back. Then he showed her his world. 

She got to meet tiny elves and flower toads, midget bears and giant boads, even hollow tree slides and great swing vines. Her elephant took her on such grand adventures! Swimming in the Deep Shallows, Climbing the Twisty Trees, and Exploring the Sandy Castles. He even took her to the Great Palace where she met Empress Peacock, who ruled the land perfectly so that all her subjects were happy. The little girl was proud of her elephant, for he was the Grand adviser, who always had an answer and who was never wrong. 

At the end of the day, when the whole kingdom was having a festival, the little girl leaned toward her friend’s ear, and whispered, “Thank you, my precious Elephant.”  

~~~

So, while this little girl’s parents tore each other apart and broke this little girl’s heart over and over;   She remembered that she always had her Elephant.

And elephants never forget.

But they do forgive. 

Stained-Glass Window

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.”

Psalms 94: 19 NIV 

This is the Bible verse I picked as my bio, mainly as a reminder to myself. It’s a reminder to say that, even if my nerves are a huge tangle, stuck in the darkest pits of my stomach, and my head is filled with crippling worries and fears, I can let the Holy Spirit take them away, and move forward.
This first week at MSA has been an exciting new adventure, but also a terrifying one. With new schedules, food, and people, it is very easy to allow yourself to become overwhelmed, which is where belief comes in. And whether you believe in spirits, higher beings, or just in yourself, everybody believes in something.

The thing about belief is that it seems very solid, something that will hold you up forever, when in reality it’s only as strong as your resolve. I say this not about the belief in a religion, but about the belief we have in ourselves.
The belief we have in ourselves could be connected to our self-esteem, courage, boldness, etc. and it can be very fragile.

Imagine the belief we have in ourselves is like a stained-glass window. The better you clean it, the better you can see the colors shine through it. But if you don’t clean it, you’re allowing dust, and dirt, and grime to hide the beautiful colors, and the glass can’t shine.

So now that you have that image in your head, change the stained-glass into your belief in yourself and when you clean it, when you polish it, that is when you are encouraging yourself, ignoring your anxiety and stepping out boldly, and when people are complimenting you and telling you how glorious you are, just to name a few examples.

But if you stop cleaning your stained-glass, that is when you start to feel like, maybe the people complimenting you didn’t mean it, or maybe I’m not good enough, or maybe I can’t do anything right. And sometimes these thoughts can last a really, really long time. And you feel stuck. You give up trying to clean your stained- glass window.

Let me tell you a not-so-secret-secret:
EVERYBODY CAN FEEL THIS WAY!!!!
All humans collectively struggle with this All The TIME!!!!

But because it is something that everyone struggles with, we all understand. and it can be very hard to start cleaning your window if you haven’t done it in a while. Plus, it will probably take more than one cleaning before you see any progress, depending on long your window has stayed dirty. That is when you hire a cleaner.

Now this cleaner, it could be a therapist, a counselor, a really, really good friend, But there is no shame in getting up to clean your window.

I will say it again: There Is No Shame In Getting Help Cleaning Your Window!!

So, surround yourself with supporters. With friends and family who will lift you up. Surround yourself, with people, who will help you clean your window, so you can shine for all to see.

Because You, are a Beautiful Stained-Glass Window.