When the weather warmed, everything and everyone came out to play. From his apartment, Carter could see that it was like letting loose a Pandora’s box of energies and he wanted to shut it back up and put it in a secret place. But he lingered at the window sash, even pushed the window open a little so that a breeze both soft and scented could come thorough and clear out the dankness. He hadn’t been out in three months so seeing them all entwined and moody with love; seeing the dogs chase each other like maniacs then drowsing at feet; seeing the trees shake their flowery boughs and the leaves glimmer with greenness so rich it took his breath away–well, this was close. Not what he wanted, but, then, he was captive in a chair with wheels. But how he longed to be with them. He wanted to call out, “The weather is a miracle and you get to be in it!” but stopped himself. He just leaned at the window the rest of the day and counted the weeks until his sister would come back from Rio, or Mrs. Johansson would stop by with an offer for dinner at the table filled with heavy food and a dour husband. Still, she was kind. He smiled and waved at the little boy on the bike who looked up and smiled back as though they were friends. A yellow balloon escaped the grasp of a girl who cried after it but Carter watched it bounce, drift, lift on the wind and felt something like happiness for longer than he could recall having felt all winter.
Patricia Ann McNair 
When the weather warmed, everything and everyone came out to play. From his apartment, Carter could see that it was like letting loose a Pandora’s box of energies and he wanted to shut it back up and put it in a secret place. But he lingered at the window sash, even pushed the window open a little so that a breeze both soft and scented could come thorough and clear out the dankness. He hadn’t been out in three months so seeing them all entwined and moody with love; seeing the dogs chase each other like maniacs then drowsing at feet; seeing the trees shake their flowery boughs and the leaves glimmer with greenness so rich it took his breath away–well, this was close. Not what he wanted, but, then, he was captive in a chair with wheels. But how he longed to be with them. He wanted to call out, “The weather is a miracle and you get to be in it!” but stopped himself. He just leaned at the window the rest of the day and counted the weeks until his sister would come back from Rio, or Mrs. Johansson would stop by with an offer for dinner at the table filled with heavy food and a dour husband. Still, she was kind. He smiled and waved at the little boy on the bike who looked up and smiled back as though they were friends. A yellow balloon escaped the grasp of a girl who cried after it but Carter watched it bounce, drift, lift on the wind and felt something like happiness for longer than he could recall having felt all winter.
Very nice. Thank you, Cynthia!