Past the Glass

I squeezed right through the two-inch gap where the patio glass stood open. Bump, thump! My base cleared the outer metal sill and dropped onto warm, rough balcony tiles. Ahead, a dry curled leaf skittered across the stone in the breeze. Scritch-scratch. Pause. Scan. I rolled after it and gave the stem a firm tap with my arm. Crunch! A crisp, papery crackle. I tilted forward and nudged it again, pinning the brittle brown shell right against the curve of a terracotta pot. Outside is warm, gritty, and full of brand-new sounds.