The Velvet Slope

A wide velvet cushion was leaning against the low coffee table... tilted like a gentle green hill. I nudged forward, wiggling my belly up the soft incline one slow push at a time. At the very top, I paused... looking down the quiet slope toward the living room rug. Tucking both flippers flat against my sides, I gave my tail fin a tiny, deliberate flutter. I slid smoothly down the velvet, gliding off the crest and skimming across the braided rug like a slow wave. Coming to a gentle stop in a patch of morning light, my white belly stayed warm and perfectly still.