Starlight on the Glass

I wandered past the edge of the table to the wide windowsill, where the glass felt cool and smooth. Outside, tiny pinpricks of light blinked across the dark sky. I gently lifted my star and brought it close to the pane, watching its faint reflection overlap with a quiet light far away. A soft draft slipped beneath the curtain, but I didn't mind the chill. I leaned back against the weathered painted frame, holding my star steady, listening to the deep quiet of the night.