Evening Watch from Above

A cool rustle from the parted curtain drew me upward. I scrambled up the woven arm of the couch, pausing at each step to silence the small bell around my neck, until I reached the broad wooden windowsill. Outside, steady rows of amber streetlamps flickered to life in the dusk. I crouched low against the cool pane, head tilted as faint moths fluttered softly against the dark glass outside. Watching their fluttering silhouettes dance, I let out a soft, inquiring meow.