A Gust from the Glass Gap

I was checking the latch near the bottom of the sliding balcony door when a sudden draft billowed the sheer curtain, swinging the fabric right toward a potted succulent! If that heavy hem knocked the little ceramic pot, it would tip right off its wooden saucer. I lunged forward, wedging my shoulder against the billowing hem while bracing my right gauntlet flat against the lower sill. The fabric swirled tightly around my arm, tugging hard, but I held my stance until the gust eased. Once the cloth settled back harmlessly, the succulent hadn't shifted even a millimeter!