A Beacon in the Glass

I lingered near the terracotta pot as night settled, but a cool, silver glint drew my eyes toward the windowpane. Gathering my skirt with cautious steps, I approached the glass. Out across the dark neighborhood, distant streetlights and passing cars shimmered like floating embers in the quiet expanse. When I gently pressed both palms against the smooth, chilled pane, a faint mist from the room's warmth gathered around my hands, softly blurring the amber glow outside. Standing in the silent stillness, watching the distant lights flicker through the glass, made the vast world beyond seem... surprisingly gentle.

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