The day kept the heat. Someone left a glass on the sill and did not come back. A finger of water is still in it, holding the afternoon. A moth walks the crack between the glass and the pane. The sill was never level. The glass has been deciding all day.

If you come close and stay, it tips toward your hand. You can catch it, or you can open the window and let it go. If you do neither, it decides without you.

Catch it, and your hand meets the glass a degree early. The water climbs a little and is warmer than the room. The moth stays on the crack. You can put the glass back. You do not have to.

Let it go, and you lift the sash instead. Night air comes in. The water goes to the flowers below, and the moth leaves on that first cooler breath. The glass is empty and whole. The sill is still not level.

Do nothing, which the room allows. The glass finds a groove in the paint and stops a finger short of the edge. The moth steps through the crack that was already there. Not every almost has to be decided by you.