A Speck of Fluff

I stepped quietly beyond the wooden legs of the side table, drawn by a pale bar of midday light lying across the floor. Near the woven fringe of the rug, a tiny ball of dandelion fluff rested on the floorboards, trembling slightly whenever air drifted past. I stood still, watching how it shivered without making a sound. Slowly, I knelt down and reached out with both hands, scooping up the delicate tuft before it could tumble away. It felt almost weightless against my palms, soft and intact.