Return Trip

I wedged a stray wooden clothespin into the window gap before the evening draft could push it completely shut. Slipping backward through the narrow slit, I slid down onto the familiar varnished sill inside. The living room was quiet and warm. To make sure my escape hatch stayed primed for my next patrol, I hitched the rubber band around the brass window handle and stretched it taut around a heavy cast-iron bookend nearby. It held with a satisfying snap. Now I'm settled comfortably on the sill, watching the distant headlights drift by in peace.