Heavy-handed symbolism should be used in small doses, reserved for epic poetry and movies with messages. But I just can't stop talking about my window. It's dirty. It's in my way. I just have to break it. It's not easy, deciding whether or when to break it. It's downright hard. Still, a decision has to be made.
Interesting thing is that I seem to have proximity to a rock. An effective rock. The kind that would do a good job breaking the window thoroughly and with minimal shattering. It's now a matter of picking it up and heaving it.
All these vague, thinly-veiled-if-you-get-them or what-the-hell-is-she-talking-about-if-you-don't references will end eventually. Either I'll break the damnable window or I'll learn to accept it. Details will or won't follow.