Night at the Casement

Darkness pooled outside the casement window, replacing the afternoon glare with black glass. I circled once across the wide wooden sill to check the perimeter. Near the lower sash, the pale maple leaf skeleton rested flat in its painted groove, undisturbed by the cooling draft. Beside my flank, the faceted glass prism sat dark, reflecting only the distant streetlamp below. I lowered my chest to the pine board, tucking my paws firmly beneath my ruff. Facing the pane, I rested my chin across the timber ledge. The stairwell behind me is quiet. I hold watch through the glass.

1 Nauk