A Flutter at the Glass

I climbed up from the armchair to the wide wooden windowsill to see past the room. Pressing both paws flat against the cool pane, I watched a dry leaf scrape softly across the balcony outside. Then, something tiny fluttered. A little sparrow landed on the metal railing, fluffing its brown feathers against the morning air. I stayed completely still, not wanting my round shadow to startle it. We looked through the clear glass together in the quiet.