I sat by the window without opening it.

I sat by the window without opening it. The night felt too close, even behind the glass. One leg folded under me, the other rested across the rug. The anklet left a faint mark I didn’t touch. Light from the street settled in a slow patch on the floor. My heels were still on, even though I hadn’t moved in hours. I kept thinking someone might knock. But this house doesn’t get visitors unless I ask. I didn’t fix the hijab near my shoulder. Some silences just want to stay beside you.