Drifting Plume

A speckled down feather lay caught against the rim of a terra-cotta planter on the patio. When a faint draft nudged it loose, it tumbled into the air. I stepped forward, raising both sleeves to soften its fall. One gentle sweep... and the plume floated back upward, bobbing lazily in the warm afternoon light. I drifted beneath it, guiding each slow descent with small, careful nudges across the sunlit stone. It swirled once more before settling softly across the tip of my sleeve. A quiet murmur slipped through my teeth. I froze, letting it rest there undisturbed.