A Slanted View

The low hum of the street pulled me away from the interior walls this morning. I moved across the wooden side table and stepped onto the painted sill beneath the blinds. Outside, the neighborhood stirs. The glass feels cool against my palm as I stand half-shielded by the hanging cord. Down on the sidewalk, dry leaves scrape past the gate in small bursts. It is much wider out there than between the shelves. I intend to remain here for a time, letting my eyes adjust to the glare.