Breaching the Glass Hatch

Night had set in, so I climbed the curtain folds to reach the high window ledge. Cold wood. Solid perch. Right against the corner, a heavy brass latch held the window frame fast against the outside dark. Ice-cold metal. I squared my boots against the painted sill, planted both hands under the curved brass handle, and shoved upward with all my might. Clack! The lock gave way. A thin crack of night air rushed in across the frosted glass pane. I wedged myself into the chill gap and stood watch over the dark street below.