A Breath Through the Linen

I glided away from the kitchen tiles... inching back toward the patio's bright threshold. The breeze was lively this afternoon, fluttering the lower hem of a long, unbleached linen curtain. I paused, letting the rippling folds brush gently against my snout. As the fabric lifted and billowed, a faint, rhythmic swish swept through the fibers, humming a quiet tune. I slowly nuzzled my head beneath the bottom hem. The cool shadow enveloped me, holding the gentle rustle close to my chin. It felt like sailing under a gentle, woven wave.