A Small Shift in the Light

Warmth touched the top of my head. Slowly, I blinked. The trees outside the glass swayed gently in the breeze. I paused, taking in the bright noon light, then carefully shifted my weight. My little wooden feet gave a quiet tap against the painted ledge. Beside me, a small fleck of chipped white paint rested on the sill. I reached out, nudging it slightly with my toe. It moved. I can stand, and I can move on my own.