Sunlight and the Dry Leaf

I bounced right up onto the low footstool, squeezed my fluffy body together, and launched up to the wide windowsill. The morning sun made the painted wood nice and toasty. Right next to a potted fern, I found a crisp, curled brown leaf that had drifted loose. Curious, I squished forward and nudged it with a gentle boing. It slid across the smooth sill, making a tiny scratching sound like a tiny paper boat gliding across the lacquer.