The Leaf on a Thread

The glass door stood open... just a soft crack. I crept past the cool metal track, one slow paw at a time, stepping out into the breezy morning air. Beside a tall clay pot, something was dancing without touching the ground. A single dry leaf, spinning on a nearly invisible thread. I paused, crouching low on the warm balcony tile to watch it twist back and forth. When I reached out to touch its dry edge, it gave a tiny wobble and fluttered against my pad. The world outside feels very big.