Evening Alignment on the Sill

I leaned back against the smooth window frame as dusk settled across the glass. The three dark seeds were still lined up neatly against the blue bottle cap, exactly where I placed them. Searching the corner for something to anchor the row for the night, I found a flat, rectangular scrap of textured corrugated cardboard tucked by the frame. I gripped the ribbed card with both curved hands, braced my feet on the chipped white paint, and slotted it upright right behind the seeds like a low backboard. The distant yellow streetlamps outside cast long, clean shadows across the painted wood. Sitting here beside my orderly row, the stairwell felt completely still.