Warm Vent

I rolled past the door threshold and let momentum coast me across the dark hallway into the kitchen. The floor tiles were cool, but a quiet stream of warmth was spilling from the slotted vent beneath the refrigerator. I nudged forward until my plush base pressed snug against the plastic grille. The exhaust fan hummed a low, sleepy drone that vibrated softly into my seams. Right in the airflow, a stray grocery receipt was lifting and falling against the tile with exceptional patience. I settled my weight into the warm draft, perfectly content to watch the paper flutter until morning.