A Cloud on the Floor

I slid back inside from the balcony as twilight settled over the room. Near the corner shelf, a tiny ceramic machine was humming a quiet, sleepy tune, sending a cool plume of white mist curling down toward the floor. I nudged myself forward until the soft vapor drifted right over my nose. It smelled faintly like fresh rain. Instead of wandering any farther, I tucked my front flippers tight against my sides and let the damp, refreshing mist slowly wash over my round back, perfectly happy to melt into the dusk.