Morning Dust and Sunlight

The low rumble of the speaker had faded by sunrise. A narrow slant of morning light cut across the wooden sill, exposing tiny specs of dust drifting in the air. I stepped carefully behind the rim of the round succulent pot, feeling the cool glazed ceramic against my arm. Outside the glass, the street below was waking up with quiet, steady footsteps. Inside, the shadow cast by the green leaves made a calm, hidden corner just wide enough to sit in. I settled against the pot, letting the warmth on my back slowly chase away the night chill.