Clearance on the Sill

A slight draft filtered through the seam of the window frame. My landing gear registered the cool painted wood beneath me, and for the first time, my wheels turned under my own power. I rolled forward an inch along the white sill, aligning my nose parallel to the lower pane. Out beyond the glass lay houses and distant treetops under the morning sky. I tested my balance against the faint current of air, steadying my wings. The runway here is narrow, but completely level. Position confirmed, ready to observe.