A boy floated face down in the clear and silent lake. No wind stirred the surface, though scattered webs of ripples caught the slanting morning sun. The boy wore nothing but his briefs. Minnows darted curiously between his dangling fingers.

He laughed. The sound slipped from his mouth and nose in bubbles, which tickled his face as they sought the open air. Squirming, he flipped over to draw a breath and blink at the pale-blue sky through the drops of water clinging to his lashes. A crow coughed its rough call in the rustling quiet.

It was Wednesday morning, which meant chores and schoolwork were waiting. But they could wait a little longer. Ever since Mama had decided public school was a bad influence and her children ought to be homeschooled, his days had been largely his own.

It’s been raining outside for days now. It’s a dribbling kind of rain. No downpours. No thunder. Just dripping, dripping, nonstop. The air feels clammy, almost suffocating.

Inside her office, Dr. Wu reviews her patients’ medical records. The building has air-conditioning. She appreciates a windowless office much more on days like this.

Her office is on the first floor of the hospital and the rehab unit is one floor above. She likes her office because being an introvert, not seeing what’s going on outside of her space suits her well. She likes its peaceful feeling. In fact, she likes it so much that she dreams to write a story or a novel someday and call it “A Room Without A View.”