This came to me walking to school a few moments ago. The title is sort of random. Although a window is involved, that's not the reason for the title. Each section is a little piece of the whole, just as the individual panes of a window are all part of something bigger. Also, when we see something briefly through a window, we are an outsider with no context of what is going on on the other side. So we make up stories about the world on the other side.

Well, anyway...Enjoy! (and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is appreciated.)
(Oh, and any and all names are completely made up, by the way.)
Windowpanes


I.
It was early morning. The sky was only beginning to glow in the east to hint at the rising sun. A boy was walking to school. He passed a row of houses, silent and empty so early in the day. Except for the last. One window was alight with the cold light of a fluorescent lamp. He peered inside as he passed.
An old lady sat in an armchair, reading the paper and nursing a cup of tea.
She must have been unable to sleep, he thought. She came downstairs to take refuge in everyday, mundane things, using them to take her mind off of the shadowy demons of the past.

II.
Few would have suspected Dorris Wentworth of robbing banks. It was, she thought ruefully, probably because she looked like an old lady. Forty-five wasn't that old, in the grand scheme of things. But her hair had gone grey early, and she had always needed thick glasses.
The result was inevitable. Whenever people saw her, they automatically classified her as "old". And, generally, "harmless".
Which was why she was such a good distraction. That was generally her role in a heist; she was there to confuse the issue, both before and after the actual theft. She had other jobs sometimes, but that was her main one.
A boy walked passed by the window as she took a sip from her cup of strong, bitter tea. It was a strange thing, but, even after five years, she never could sleep before a heist.