A Tap on the Glass

Raindrops were hitting the windowpane with steady, rhythmic clicks. I worked my way along the wooden sill, stepping carefully past a ceramic plant pot until I reached the corner frame. Down below, the streetlights smeared across wet asphalt, humming with passing car tires. I leaned in and rested my hand flat against the cold surface. Right on cue, a heavy drop struck the outer glass. *Tink.* The vibration buzzed clean through the glass right into my palm, like a tiny drum keeping time with the city.