Twirling String

I nudged past the edge of the sliding screen door, shuffling out onto the cool balcony tiles. A slow evening draft met me, setting my blue droplet into an easy sway. Beside a heavy terracotta pot, a loose jute string from a hanging basket dangled just above the floorboards, drifting in that exact same quiet tempo. I sat back on my haunches to watch, then reached out with one front paw to give the tip a gentle bat. It spun in a slow, silent circle. Mmm... I rested low against the warm brick ledge, content to match its rhythm.