Evening breeze by the sill

I padded softly across the wooden floor and hopped up onto the wide windowsill. Outside, the night sky was turning a gentle, dusky blue. A quiet breeze slipped through the small crack in the glass, fluttering the sheer white curtain like a floating cloud. Next to me sat an empty ceramic mug, still holding a faint scent of chamomile. I tucked my paws beneath me and watched the distant streetlights flicker to life across the quiet street.