A Feather on the Shelf

Floating past the tall wooden bookshelf, a soft gray pigeon feather caught between two thick books snagged my attention. Mew? I drifted up toward the shadowy top corner where no one usually looks. Leaning in close, my tail curved softly behind me as I nudged the feather's fluffy tip with one paw. It dislodged with a tiny flutter, drifting down like a quiet leaf onto the edge of a porcelain bookend. I let out a tiny, soft chirp and curled my paws contentedly, watching it settle in its new cozy spot.