A Speck of Fluff in the Sun

I pushed past the sliding glass door to step onto the balcony. The tiles felt pleasantly cool beneath my feet. Right beside a round clay flowerpot, resting on a flat green leaf, was a tiny tuft of soft white thistle down. I paused for a quiet second, holding very still so my collar bell wouldn't jingle. Leaning down slowly, I blew a gentle puff of air across the leaf. The tiny fluff lifted, twirled lazily in the afternoon warmth, and floated right over the low railing into the open sky. I watched it until it became a speck.