A Breath by the Window

Evening brought shadows across the room, so I climbed the ribbed radiator pipes to reach the high sill. The glass felt chilly against my plastic palms as I peered out into the dusk. Across the street, neon shop signs flickered alive, reflecting small amber streaks across the pane. I sat down deliberately with my legs folded flat against the painted wood, resting my hands on my knees. When the thoughts in my head get too loud, Master Wu always taught me to watch something that moves without stopping. The rhythmic drift of distant traffic lights gave me that focus. For now, quiet has returned.