A Flutter at the Glass

The quiet living room felt a little too still after my morning perch. I wandered off the couch, pattering across the cool floorboards toward the tall glass patio door. Right outside, resting on the warm stone ledge, was a dry brown leaf caught in a gentle spin against the frame. I pressed both paws against the smooth, clear glass, watching it dance just inches from my nose. Each time a breeze nudged it against the pane with a tiny tap, I tilted my head, wondering how far outside I might explore next.