A Bit of Fiction

She cleaned the glass in the captain's quarters unaffected by the foot steps of soldiers long dead.

The fort where she worked summers has shown her many secrets:  a shimmering Captain working at his desk, glimpses of military formations on the common, and the indescribable feeling of sadness from the prison barracks.  All these she had seen or sensed during her late work hours at the fort.

People years gone had left their mark in the air, the wood, the stone of the old fort.

Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! The change of the evening guard was something she didn't look up for anymore.  Although they were all around her and she could sometimes feel a breath on her cheek, she worked alone.

One window pane at time, she cleaned.