The square of clear glass

An original literary non-fiction-style account of watching a window cleaner from inside a street-level cafe.

The street had become a blurred arrangement of coats and umbrellas. Rain from earlier in the morning had dried in uneven marks across the cafe’s front window. From my table, the bus stop appeared to have a pale curtain hanging in front of it, though the people waiting there seemed perfectly certain of where they were.

A window cleaner arrived carrying a bucket. He set it beside the wall and lifted his hand towards the glass. For a moment, a broad wet shape replaced the old marks, making the view less clear rather than more. A woman near the door moved her coffee away from the sill, although the work was taking place outside.

Then the blade travelled down. Behind it, one long clear strip opened onto the street. The bus stop’s red sign acquired a sharp edge. A man's blue sleeve seemed suddenly close enough to touch, separated from us by glass which had become more difficult to see. The cleaner shifted his position, and the next strip joined the first without a visible seam.

His face appeared briefly in the cleared area, then vanished behind his own moving arm. Inside, a child raised a hand towards him. He answered with two fingers still holding the cloth. The greeting lasted no longer than the wipe at the lower corner.

When he finished, he stepped aside to look at the whole window. I could now see the cafe behind me reflected over the street ahead: cups above pavement, a hanging lamp suspended among umbrellas. Greater clarity had not removed the glass from the scene. It had given the inside and outside a sharper way of occupying the same square. The cleaner picked up his bucket and walked past the bus stop, becoming one more blue shape in the view he had cleared.

How does the writer present the changing relationship between the cafe and the street?