Until her dying day

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. It was a small window, high up on the wall, but it was enough to give her a sense of what lay beyond the walls of the building she lived in.

The window was her only connection to the outside world, and she spent hours staring at it, trying to make out the details of the landscape beyond. She could see the tops of trees and the occasional flash of color as a bird flew by, but that was all.

The world outside the window was a mystery to her, a tantalizing glimpse of something beyond her reach. She longed to know what lay beyond the window, to experience the freedom and beauty of the natural world.

But the world outside the window was not a place for her. It was a dangerous, uncertain place, ruled by powerful forces that cared nothing for the lives of ordinary people. She knew that she could never leave the safety of her home, no matter how much she longed to see the world beyond.

So she remained trapped in her room, gazing out at the window and dreaming of a life she could never have. And as the years passed, the window became a symbol of her own personal dystopia, a reminder of all that she had lost and all that she could never have.

As the years went by, the outside world began to change. The sky grew darker and the air became thick with pollution. The birds and other animals that she used to see from the window slowly disappeared.

One day, the window became cloudy and she could no longer see through it. She was devastated, feeling as if she had lost her only connection to the outside world. She begged the man who lived in the room to clean the window, but he refused.

"There's no point," he told her. "The world outside is a mess. It's better not to see it."

But she couldn't accept that. She needed to see the world, even if it was a dystopian one. She spent hours scrubbing at the window with a cloth, trying to clear the grime and dirt that had accumulated over the years.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the window was clean. She could see through it again, and the outside world was even more desolate than she had imagined. The trees were bare and blackened, and the air was thick with smoke. There were no birds or animals to be seen.

She realized then that the man had been right. It was better not to see the outside world, for it was a place of darkness and despair. And so she turned away from the window, vowing never to look out at it again. She would spend the rest of her days in the safety of her room, content to live in ignorance of the horrors that lay beyond.

As the years went by, the woman grew old and the man who lived in the room with her passed away. She was left alone, with only the window for company.

But the window had become a source of comfort for her, a reminder of the life that she had once known. She would sit by it for hours, staring out at the world beyond and wondering what had become of it.

Despite the bleakness of the outside world, the window gave her hope. It was a symbol of the life she had once known, and a reminder that there was beauty and goodness in the world, even in the darkest of times.

As she sat by the window, she made a vow to never give up hope. She would continue to stare out at the world beyond, no matter how difficult it became, and she would hold on to the belief that one day, things would get better.

And so she lived out the rest of her days, gazing out at the window and dreaming of a brighter future. The window became a symbol of her perseverance and her hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light on the horizon.