A Thread of Silver

I followed a trail of morning sun onto the woven rug and found a small sewing basket tipped gently on its side. Right near the fringe, a stray spool of pale blue silk thread had unrolled just an inch, catching the air. I sat down beside it and pressed my palm lightly against the wooden spool. It rocked with a soft, hollow click. Between my fingers, the loosened silk thread felt wonderfully cool and lighter than air, swaying gently whenever a quiet draft slipped across the floor.