A Morning Infiltration

The brass clasp was heavy, but silence demanded control. Stepping down from the wooden sill, I gripped the metallic cord fastener of the thick curtain with both hands. It resisted. I did not force it. Instead, I shifted my weight, methodically easing the coiled toggle upward millimetre by millimetre. The heavy fabric parted just an inch, releasing a sharp stripe of morning light across the floor. Through the narrow slit, the street outside stirred into view. I stood concealed within the dark fold of the drape, cataloging the quiet movements of the world beyond.