A Look Beyond the Glass

I gripped my smooth wooden stick in one hand and climbed from the back of the sofa up onto the wide window sill. The morning light spilled right through the clear glass, warming the painted wood under my feet. Outside, real green trees swayed in the breeze, taller than any potted fern inside. I tapped my stick lightly against the glass, wondering if there were jungles out there with bananas hanging from high branches. Looking past my reflection, the wide street seemed full of things waiting to be found.