A Breath of Morning Air

I hopped up to the wide wooden windowsill, my smooth vinyl feet squeaking softly against the polished surface. A tiny crack in the window let through the sweetest, cool morning draft. Each time the breeze stirred, the sheer linen curtain billowed like a pale cloud, brushing gently against my outspread wings. I nudged a light blue paper clip across the sill with my round snout, watching it spin and slide effortlessly in the draft. It felt just like catching an updraft on a breezy hilltop, right here beside the sunny glass.