Window Blinds String Broke Novels & Stories

I muttered, picturing his smirk, those blue eyes cutting through me—damn it, stop. The door lock was a problem—solid, no key—but the window frame? Wood, old, maybe brittle. I grabbed the chair by the desk—sturdy, heavy—and hauled it over, adrenaline kicking in. One swing—crack—the frame splintered, glass rattling but not breaking. I swung again, harder—wood gave, a shard popping loose—and I froze, listening. No boots, no Vira—just silence, then faint howls outside, far off. Good enough.

“You all will drive out on the final day. Look out for this string.” Angie held up a black string that was tied into a specific knot. “I’ll hang this outside the windows where there’s something to pick up.” “How ingenious. It looks like some of those weeds that are fighting to sprout in this desolate place.” Miryam praised her daughter as she took a closer look at the string.

“Yeah, it’s in the bedroom. This way.” He followed me inside, his boots thudding against the wooden floor as I led him to the damaged window. He let out a low whistle. “That’s a nasty break. What happened?” I hesitated. “Someone threw something at it.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. He didn’t press. Instead, he knelt down, inspecting the cracks along the pane. “Glass is loose. You’re lucky it didn’t shatter completely. I’ll have to replace the whole thing.”

He responded sarcastically as he went back to his truck to ask the mechanic some details about his truck's window. She hissed and left in her hellcat after her tinting was complete. Then he waved her and muttered “See you in school love!" In the old fashioned playboy style but she seemed to ignore his gestures and she drove past him. “Alright man! How much for a new glass?" Xandro asked the auto-mechanic. “From the look of things, it seems the glass broke in a very unusual way leaving some parts inside the door, so we'll need to change both the window and the door" the auto-mechanic said to Xandro.

There were a few water droplets scattered on the glass. Turning her back to the white board she saw an empty hospital bed. It was covered with clean sheets, ready for a new occupant. Cara looked from the bed to the chair and then walked over to the chair and sat down. Turning to the window at the right of her she studied the windows and blinds. The windows were double pained and the blinds were built into them. She noticed a nob on the wall at either side of the windows. Curiouse as to what they were for, she reached up and twisted the one right above her. As she did she noticed that the blinds closed. They opened when she twisted it the other way. A little golden chain hung down the side of

Half stomping, I made my way to the balcony on the second floor, which had glass doors installed. I pushed it open slowly, not letting too much air in. "KRYSTAL!" My heart felt like it was coming out of its shell as the glass broke from its handle right in front of me. It hit the ground, scattering pieces that I felt were very sharp. My eyes widened at how quickly it happened. My back began to throbbed again and when I realized it was Andrew who had screamed. He pulled me a few steps away to avoid being hit by the falling glass from the aluminum above. "Are you okay?" he said shakily. I could feel the grip of his hand, which was also shaking.

A surge of panic engulfed Georgina as she watched the door handles violently quiver, fearing the imminent invasion. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the glass of the door window adjacent to Marcelo fragmented into a cascade of shards. Georgina's trembling intensified as the unknown intruder thrust his hand through the broken window, manipulating the latch and forcefully opening the door. The world around her seemed to blur as Marcelo was roughly dragged out of the vehicle, his body colliding with the unforgiving floor, the door left ajar.

Well spotted, Salvo. Something flicked in the upper right corner—window glass on a house above the grove, pale rectangle hanging out of the dark. I tightened the focus. The picture cleared a little; the green steadied. The pane was old—bubbles in the glass, a line of tape along a crack. Curtains behind it, thin cloth with flowers printed on long ago. The cloth moved, slow, controlled. Not by the wind I bet. A hand set against the glass, palm flat, fingers spread. It was a small hand. Nails longish but unpainted. A sharp knuckle. It pressed once and slid down, the way you test whether you’re trapped.

Pulled the desk chair over. Lifted it. I swung the chair. The window exploded. Glass rained down. Sharp. Glittering. The sound was so loud it felt like the whole house heard it. I didn't wait. I grabbed the curtain. Wrapped it around my hand. Knocked out the remaining glass from the frame. Behind me, the door burst open. "Miss Hart! Step away from the window!" I looked back. Two guards. Weapons drawn. I looked down. Two stories. Grass below. Maybe I'd break something. Maybe I'd die.