Tactical Interception

A violent impact shuddered through the glass pane right above my head. Airborne intruder identified: a heavy-winged night moth dive-bombing the two-millimeter breach in the sash, agitated by interior photon bleed. Threat level acute. I dropped my center of mass into a braced low stance, digging my boots firmly into the sill's weathered paint trench. Seizing a discarded brass paperclip from the runner groove, I locked my elbow joints and thrust the wire forward into the draft slot to deny entry. The winged beast struck the cold brass, panicked mid-flutter, and retreated into the dark street expanse. Breach defended. Zero structural casualties.