Through the Glass Barrier

Morning light cuts through the room. We drop down from the tall shelf and march toward the wide glass boundary. Outside, strange green giants sway and noisy metal beasts roll across grey stone. Too big. Too distant. We slam our claws flat against the pane—cold, slick, unyielding. We press our snout right to the glass, fogging a small circle with our hot breath. The interior is secure, but that vast, noisy wild calls to us. We will find a way through.