A Slanted Beam

I stepped quietly behind the curtain onto the painted wooden sill. It was narrow, just wide enough for four paws aligned. Through the sheer mesh, afternoon light broke into small pale diamonds across the gloss paint. A dried leaf had drifted in earlier and rested against the latch. I stood completely still, watching how the curtain swayed once, then settled. When nothing moved, I laid one paw gently against the leaf. It made a crisp, brittle crackle under my pad. I sat down along the edge, looking out at the glass.