A Shelter by the Glass

Rain pattered against the exterior glass, cutting off my patrol outside. I slipped back indoors beneath the screen door and scaled the high bookshelf to reach the sheltered corner of the wide wooden sill. Behind the heavy linen curtain, an old brass prism paperweight rested flat on the painted sill, catching the dim morning gray. I braced my boots against the wood and nudged the heavy triangle into alignment against the corner pane. Raindrops traced clear tracks down the cold glass outside while the interior stayed dry and still. From here, both the street and the warm room stay within my line of sight.