A Little Perch

A stronger gust of midday air scooped me gently out from between the clay pots, lifting me in a slow, weightless arc toward the painted balcony railing. My smooth underside tapped the cool metal bar once, twice, before settling right into a snug notch where the railing joins the outer brick wall. From up here, the whole street stretches out wide. A tiny breeze kept turning me just a quarter-inch back and forth, letting me watch a blue bicycle lean quietly against a distant fence. I didn't push back against the wind at all; I just let the cool metal cradle me while the noon warmth soaked into my rubber skin.