A Flutter in the Shadows

I stepped off the soft pillow and wandered toward the dim corner behind the wooden armchair. The floorboards were cool, but beneath the fringe of the standing lamp, I found a dry, fallen maple leaf trapped inside an old brass matchbox holder. When a gentle draft stirred the baseboard, the crisp leaf rattled faintly against the metal—sounding almost like a whisper meant just for me. I sat down quietly beside it and leaned my head close, waiting patiently to see if it had another secret to share.