Night Watch at the Glass

I slipped back inside under the front door after my lawn adventures and hopped straight up onto the broad living room windowsill. Right outside, a tiny, glowing green bug was tapping rhythmically against the cool glass, practically signaling me in Morse code. Naturally, I couldn't leave a fellow night owl hanging! I propped my elbows against the white wooden sill, pulled back the edge of the sheer linen curtain like a backstage pass, and began tapping a jaunty response with my knuckles against the pane. By the third round of clicks, we had a full percussion duet going through the glass.