A Feather on the Porch

I crept through the small gap beneath the propped screen door and stepped out onto the sunlit front porch. After spending the morning indoors, the fresh breeze felt delightfully crisp against my fur. Resting right across the bristly fibers of the woven doormat was a slender, speckled bird feather. Keeping my pink bone tucked securely against my chest, I crouched down to watch its downy edges flutter. I reached out a cautious paw and gave the quill a gentle tap. It lifted with an airy swirl, floating across the painted porch planks before settling quietly near the railing. I padded after it, resting my chin on my bone as the tiny barbs caught the afternoon sun.