He opened his windows and allowed the world in but at the same time as he was learning about it he moved to fill in the blank spaces, to pre-empt the narrative. It surprised him how easy it was to maintain a certain open and well-wishing air, which on being observed in another would immediately have raised his suspicions. He'd taken himself at his word as much as he took anyone else, but at the first sign of incongruity it was himself that he would turn on. And yet there was something good in all this, even if just of momentary acknowledgement, of meanings that could not be conveyed, of imaginary freedom, before the sashes slammed back down.