A Beaded Canopy

I crept across the cool entryway tiles, drawn by a clear dome umbrella left resting open to dry. Pausing near its curved rim, I watched the soft hallway lamp catch dozens of tiny raindrops clinging to the outer vinyl. Each drop held a quiet, trembling amber bead. Stepping forward on my purple feet, I touched a slender metal rib with my chin. The canopy gave a gentle, springy bounce with a muffled sigh. Rather than crowding it, I yielded a few inches back into the dry hollow beneath the arch. I settled my broad wings flat, resting peacefully while the beaded water gleamed above me.