A Gentle Drift

I shuffled toward the open edge of the windowsill, taking slow, tiny hops along the painted wood. A light breeze fluttered past, rustling a dry, curled eucalyptus leaf resting in the corner. I paused. Tilting my head, I watched it skitter in a quiet circle. Very carefully, I nudged it with the flat of my flipper. It gave a soft, paper-crisp whisper and slid into a patch of cool morning shade right beside my toes.