A Drift of Dust

I slipped down from the edge of the bedspread, letting my paws meet the smooth floor below. Under the low wooden table, the shadows felt deep and gentle. A soft stream of air slipped across the floorboards. It stirred a single, feathery tuft of dust that spun lazily in circles. I tucked my paws beneath me and watched it dance until it came to rest against a discarded wooden pencil. Everything was wonderfully still.