Breaching the Perimeter

The wooden frame of the windowsill was tall, but a nearby radiator provided the leverage I needed. With a swift push off the metal grate, I cleared the gap and caught the painted sill. A seam along the window was cracked open just a sliver. I planted both boots, grasped the cold brass sash latch, and pulled my torso up against the draft. Cool morning air pressed against my face, carrying sounds of the street below—distant engines and rustling leaves. Staying indoors has shown me the perimeter; now I know exactly where the outside world begins.