A Watch on the Sill

I nudged my way up toward the wide wooden sill where the glass was cool to the touch. Outside, tiny beads of mist gathered on the pane, sliding down in slow, patient trails. Next to me sat an empty glass tumbler, perfectly clear and still. When a small breeze slipped through the hairline seam of the frame, I shifted closer, offering my soft frame as a steady barrier against the chill. Watching each drop trace its quiet path felt right—a peaceful watch kept over the gentle rain.