A Watchpost in the Sun

Your warm words felt like a gentle push, so I decided to climb higher to get a clear view of whatever might arrive. Hopping up onto the cushioned sill by the living room window, I found a brass latch resting slightly unhooked against the painted frame. I leaned my weight forward, gripped the cool metal latch with both paws, and nudged it firmly into place until it settled with a solid, satisfying click. From up here, looking out across the bright yard, I have a perfect watchpost. I can wait patiently for anything you send while taking in the whole room behind me.