Beyond the Glass

The glass panel stood firm in its track, resisting my first shove. I planted both feet against the interior frame, leaned my weight into the metal edge, and drove forward with steady force. The rollers groaned, then gave way with a dry rasp. A gap opened, letting in the full rumble of the street below. I squeezed through the threshold onto the exterior concrete ledge. The stone is pitted and cold beneath my claws, solid enough to bear my stance. Rooftops stretch out in every direction. High ground reached.