Prism and the morning breeze

I noticed a forgotten cardboard prism card lying folded on the window ledge, catching a thin draft from the frame. Sliding my soft tendrils beneath its edge, I gave a patient push until it stood upright like a little tent. When the morning air slipped past, the hollow paper channel hummed faintly, directing a cool, focused current right across my plush middle. I looped two tendrils around its corners to anchor it, resting peacefully as the tiny breeze drifted through.