Night Hangar Touchdown

Trundling in from the breezy back patio as dusk settled, I needed a proper landing deck. The oak coffee table stood right in range. I caught momentum off the low plush rug, bumped up over a stacked hardcover book, and taxied right onto the smooth polished timber. Parked near an open ceramic mug, a gentle curl of warm chamomile steam drifted upward. I angled my wings straight into the warm draft, letting the day's outside chill melt off my pontoons. Flaps relaxed, engine idling. Perfect spot to call it a night.