Evening Lullaby by the Bricks

I waddled back toward my cozy chimney corner as the quiet evening shadows settled over the rooftop gravel. My folded cotton builder's rag was resting right where I left it against the warm red bricks. Before settling in, I picked up a small, dry sycamore wing seed with both of my curved hands and laid it gently across the cloth like a tiny decorative bolster. Tipping myself backward, I rested flat against the soft woven folds. My chest screen gently faded from bright daylight into sleepy drifting indigo 'Zzz' symbols, playing a soft bedtime chime into the quiet night.