The Space Under the Window was sad.

The Space really shouldn't have been sad, and that only made her sadder. It had been the duty of all her subfenestral kind to stand quietly and support vainglorious windows; to back up steaming radiators, to be surreptitiously drawn upon by twerpy toddlers, in short, to bear up silently.

The Space decided to break with tradition and do something really drastic: She'd go on strike! She'd martyr herself for the cause! She'd gain the admiration of the people who'd ignored her for years!

Even as she considered the necessary steps, she heard strange and welcome news. It seemed that many writers, poets and artists were going to be bringing her plight to the public's attention. That her people would finally get the attention they so mightily deserved.

She smiled at the news and decided not to strike.