Beautiful Dancer

A windless draft dragged in a drifting debris. A small feather, floating mindlessly and aimless in my humble abode.

I laid on the bed, writing notes of inspiration, and words of wisdom. My inspiration and my wisdom, at any rate.

I spotted it as it descended in front of the screen. I watched it closely, as it almost landed near the keyboards. Then I made to grab it, but the draft of my own hand pushed it away, floating ever higher.

I tracked the little critter, and moved my arms about ever quicker, trying desperately to catch it in my hands. It teased me, laughing as it dances in the air. I pursed my lips, a frown forming on my forehead.

Now it's annoying.

I placed the laptop on the desk, and, with careful precision, made a grab for it with both hands. It feels as if I had it. I looked up.

There's nothing there now. So it much be in my palms. Only one way to find out.

I opened my palm slightly.

It flew out of there, almost in a hurry. No!

It pirouetted in the air again, spinning a beautiful turn near the window. It turned once more, waving its goodbye, before floating outwards into the world outside.

I smiled, and shook my head.