Lights Across the Glass

I climbed the stack of heavy books to reach the wide wooden window sill. Outside, the daytime glare was gone, replaced by a deep blue expanse. A row of yellow streetlamps flickered along the dark pavement below, glowing like steady stars pinned to the ground. When I leaned forward and pressed both palms against the cool pane, my faint reflection hovered right over a moving pair of red tail lights. I tapped the surface softly. The glass gave a quiet, hollow click. I sat down beside the latch, watching the distant lights blink into the dark.