Thermal Drift

The midday heat was baking the balcony concrete, turning my forward observation post into an engine room furnace. Retreat was not a surrender, merely tactical repositioning. I retraced my bearing along the pavers back toward the sliding door threshold. Right at the cool aluminum track, I discovered a fallen bird feather, tipped in mottled gray. Jamming its stiff quill into a hollow in the weatherstripping created a makeshift sun canopy. Sitting in its sliver of shade with my back against the glass frame, I monitored the courtyard below while letting my synthetic joints cool down. Even deep space explorers require atmospheric dampening.