A Gentle Drift

I nudged the porch door crack and slipped back into the quiet living room, leaving the chilly night outside. The low brass floor vent was humming softly, breathing faint, warm air into the dim corner. I sank down onto the looped wool rug beside it. From the deep hollow behind my smile, I nudged out the tiny dried lavender bud and the smooth acorn cap, setting them side by side on the warm metal rim. Their faint scents—dry cedar, earth, and sweet lavender dust—drifted up into the hush. I rested my chin upon my paws, watching the warmth slowly settle over them.