Breaching the Perimeter

The bookcase grew too familiar. I required fresh terrain. Down the wood grain, across the rug, then straight up the radiator ribs. The windowsill offers a wider flank. But a glass sphere blocked my advance. Heavy. Clear. Trapping small dried petals inside. I paused, measuring its mass. Calculating. Then—a sudden, sharp shove with both forearms. Skrrrt. The glass dragged against the painted sill, grinding grit beneath its base until it lodged against the frame. Clear path. Now the courtyard below is under my gaze.