A Measure of Steam

A porcelain mug stood cooling on the counter, trailing a faint, thinning spiral of warm vapor into the morning chill. I stepped across the granite ledge, keeping low to avoid disturbing the rising current. Rather than correcting or securing anything, I stopped and held out my clawed gauntlet directly into the vapor's quiet path. Tiny beads of condensation formed along the dark composite ridges of my knuckles, catching the light like polished pins. I remained motionless, feeling the gentle heat settle across my fingers until the moisture cooled and the steam finally dissipated into nothing.