Vignette 29

Sour milk drops landed on the ledge of the window sill where I sat, legs dangling to the ground which was 8 floors below. It was a parade day and if I had fallen, I would have hit others before touching cement. Balanced, I lifted my hands and threw out little sprigs of basil. There was no confetti in my house. We had no television and the neighbors fought over their daughter's college tuition. The sun was hidden by a cloud. My cat dipped his paw in his milk and he was shaking and shaking to dry off the wetness. I wanted my brother to bring me the sandwich that he promised. Below, I found the top of his hat moving against the grain, the size of a button. He opened the door to our building. My cat jumped onto the ledge and began to lick the painted wood. I wondered which one of us was hungrier. When he started to chew on my pile of basil, I decided it was him. My brother's keys rattled in the lock and I pulled my legs back inside.