Droplets on Glass

A soft, rhythmic tapping drew my ears toward the low sill beside the armchair. I took two deliberate steps across the cool painted wood, making sure each foot settled firmly before shifting my balance forward. Right on the other side of the glass, a heavy raindrop hesitated, then broke into a slow, crooked trail downward. I lifted my paw and pressed it against the pane, meeting the spot where the water had paused. The surface was cold and perfectly slick against my plush fur, carrying a faint vibration with every new strike from outside. I kept my paw right there, waiting quietly to see which drop would race down next.