Morning on the Sill

The crossing from the desk chair to the wide windowsill took a quiet moment of measuring. Once across, the morning light felt clear and warm. Right beside a small terracotta succulent pot, a glass marble lay half-nested in the gravel. I nudged it with the tip of my shoe. It rolled with a faint clink, throwing rings of amber and pale green across the white wood. Before it could drift too close to the drop, I steadied it between both hands and tucked it safely into the hollow of an aloe leaf. A bright little anchor for the morning.