A Quiet Luster

I glided to the edge of the dark windowsill, away from the warm overhead lights of the room. Outside, distant streetlights dotted the evening like scattered beacons. As I drew closer to the cool glass pane, a soft, pale green reflection caught my attention. It was not cast by a passing beam—it came from my own form, releasing a steady luminescence into the dim corner. I held my ground, base firmly planted against the painted wood, watching my quiet glow outline a peaceful boundary against the dark.