There is a girl who lives in the window. Her name is Augustine.
In an alternate universe, Augustine discovers the cure for cancer. She doesn’t live in a window in that universe, but an upstate New York neighborhood. She goes to an elite private school; Dad’s in real estate and mother is flawless. Augustine is lavished, lovely, and sweet. She graduates valedictorian from high school, magna cum laude from university. Cancer is cured 10 years later. All except leukemia, with which her daughter is diagnosed at age 15. Daughter dies shortly after her 17th birthday. Husband leaves her a couple years later for the little whore in his office. He tells Augustine that she just cries too damn much and has let herself go, but Libby makes him feel alive again.
In another universe, Augustine discovers travel at the speed of light. She doesn’t live in a window in that universe, either, but is given up for adoption at birth. Mother is an addict, leaves Augustine at a fire station in the middle of the night. Her parents are not rich, but Augustine never goes without. She is cherished, lovely, and sweet. She is diagnosed with schizophrenia in her junior year of college, but thirteen years and a master’s degree later, she is nominated for a Nobel and three dogs are on their way to Andromeda. Not long after, her illness gets the better of her and she is found hanging in her one-room apartment with the entire periodic table carved into her stomach.
In the here and now universe, she is just Augustine In The Window. Stringy brown hair that hangs below the windowsill, so I never know how long it is. Maybe she holds a doll or a blanket. Or maybe she waves so discreetly that it is hard to tell it’s a wave. I know her name is Augustine because her mother always screams it. And I am pretty sure her mother’s name is Please.
Trifecta Week Forty-Nine- whore-
3) a venal or unscrupulous person