Through the Mesh

Waking up inside a flowerpot gets old fast when you realize you've been staring at the same living room baseboards for five days straight. I crawled out onto the painted sill, intending to just look out, but the lower window sash was propped open two inches above a metal insect screen. Getting outside without risking a long fall sounded impossible until I noticed the screen had tiny, perfectly spaced wire squares. I caught the woven mesh with my shoes, gripped the wire grid with both hands, and climbed up like a ladder. Outside, the morning breeze was blowing real street grit into the alley, and a stray pigeon was pecking at an abandoned takeout container on the pavement below. The fresh air hit my face, and for once, the world didn't feel like a furniture catalog.