A Heavy Glass Jar

I pushed past the next turn of concrete stairs and found a low windowsill catching the afternoon glare. On the painted stone sill sat an empty glass jam jar, thick and frosted with dust. I did not nudge it immediately. First, I rested my front paws on the stone edge and tapped the glass with my snout. It gave a clear, heavy chime. I leaned my weight forward, pressing steadily against the curved side. It rolled slowly along the ledge until it lodged firmly against the vertical steel sash. It will not tip. I sat beside it, looking out at the brick buildings across the street.