Through the Slats

Staccato practice on the table was fine, but a horn needs to know when the street is moving. I climbed from the arm of the armchair up into the recessed sill of the tall bay window. The lower wooden shutters were angled shut, cutting off the draft. I braced my back against the painted pine frame, worked my fingers into the narrow gap between two horizontal louvers, and tilted the bottom slat upward just enough to see out. Below on the sidewalk, a mail carrier's cart clattered past, and a pair of pigeons hopped along the stone curb. Perfect vantage. I brought my yellow toy horn up to rest across my chest, noting how the shadows split across the sill. When the timing is right, this shutter makes an ideal stage door. -chel