The story is about a terminally ill boy, it takes place as his final moments aproach
A boy in black stood in front of the open window in his bedroom, the features of his face were covered by his mask of black. He brought his shaky white hands up to his face and rubbed his very blue eyes. Someone passing by on the street waved to the boy in black, the passerby frowned when he saw the haunted features of the boy in the window with his face covered by a black mask. The passerby quickly hurried off and muttered something to himself about the state of the country he lives in. The boy stood by the window for hours without moving or blinking as if he turned himself to stone, those very blue eyes staring outside always counting four. The pattern is always four, the boy thought to himself and it’s got to change. I hate seeing four instead of one or two like I saw before I broke out in this fever.
The crane lost his wings yet he still managed to fly past a window with a black boy standing in the center with staring blue eyes, they were bluer than the sky, the crane thought as he passed another four houses before losing altitude and crashing into the ground and splattering like an egg. Yet the crane still lived on in those blue eyes replaying the scene in the fourth dimension. Finally, the boy in black moved away from the window and with those shaky white hands closed all six sides of the window. The boy walked to the bed with dramatic tipsy baby-like steps as if he hadn’t walked in ten years. The boy in black got to the bed and fell unconscious and was never seen in the window again, and his staring blue eyes were closed forever.