The woman in the kitchen window stares,  caught in soft focused motionless, in the washing up steamed frame. A piece of time set aside from the main flow, as her view is through the mind's vision and does not witness the present moment. Hands hover in the warmth of the suds and dishes stand patiently in queues, like travellers used to the waiting, as she rests again, still, in contemplation.

If time were accessible to scrutiny, the woman's kitchen life could be sped up and re-wound, revealing patterns of thought and movement. Grooved paths appear, like the multi-coloured light-lines of car headlights in night-view postcards of big cities.
Her grooved tracks, streaming inwards from compass points around her world, all end here, under the kitchen window. A tangle of time grooves, bundled together in a Gordian knot of the strands of her life.

Her body - willingly rooted deep down, past the foundations and the  tree roots and the strata beneath the house; her mind raised and searching the collective thought of people's hopes and dreams. And where has she gone to today? (At least she is still dreaming...) Today's thought is of childhood and as we peer with her through the steam covered glass, she travels to freer times and poetical playground pals, who pant and preen in their poneytailed playtimes... But we see only grass and hills.

But this is just a pinprick moment's camera image; a postcard view of a woman and a kitchen window - "a subject for a short story", that can only reveal a snapshot of the whole.

Dream over, the woman returns to this 'now' and as she moves away from the glass, the lines of light spill out again in all directions, from their knotted place under the window.