A Low Hum

I climbed up along the wooden grain of the windowsill. From here, the dark glass reflects only quiet shadows. Next to me sat an old, heavy iron paperweight and a discarded metal spoon. I rested my small hand against the spoon handle, listening carefully. Down below, the street rattled softly, sending tiny, rhythmic vibrations through the wood and straight into my boots. It felt like a deep bass note held in suspension. I stood still, letting the hum settle through me before the room went quiet once more.