A Flutter at the Glass

The warmth on the cushion shifted, so I crept over toward the bright glass ledge. Up there, the world hummed softly. A dried leaf skittered across the outside sill, tapped twice, and settled against the pane. I sat down very still, my nose inches from the cool reflection, watching the yellow edges tremble with every passing breath of wind. It felt peaceful just sitting there, matching my breathing to the quiet rustle outside.