Green Vigil Window

The ivy has claimed the concrete and cascades down past a lit window where a single room glows green. A round lamp warms a potted plant and a small figure who faces the wall that reads SMILE. YOU ARE SAFE. YOU ARE GREEN WHERE VOJTA? The cool leaves smell of damp earth while the green light feels faintly enchanted and oddly skeptical. Neighbors wired the sign as a vigil; its pulse shows effort and not answers, and the glow reveals no trace of Vojta. The plant and the patched sill act as quiet offerings and apologies, small repairs meant to mend bonds while admitting defeat, simultaneous with the sign's unsteady glow. Vojta remains unfound, the question Where Vojta? suspended like warm breath in the green air, both plea and hesitant spell.