☁️ The Cloud Pillow

Willow the cat could not get comfortable. Her pillow was too flat. Her blanket was too scratchy. She turned around three times, then three times more.

Out of the window, she saw a little cloud floating low over the garden. It was white and puffy and looked softer than anything in the whole world.

"I wish I had a pillow like that," Willow sighed. The little cloud stopped. It floated closer. And closer. Until it was right outside the window. "Would you like to try?" it whispered, in a voice like a soft breeze.

Willow climbed out onto the windowsill and stepped onto the cloud. It was cool and squishy, like a marshmallow, and it held her up as gently as a hug.

The cloud floated up over the rooftops. The town was asleep below, with tiny yellow windows glowing here and there. The stars came closer. Somewhere, very far away, a sleepy owl was singing a lullaby.

Willow lay down in the middle of the cloud. It shaped itself around her, soft under her head, warm around her tail. She felt her whole body go floppy and calm. She gave a long, slow yawn.

The cloud rocked her gently, back and forth, back and forth. Willow purred. "Thank you, cloud," she mumbled.

In the morning, she woke up in her own basket. Her pillow felt just right. And on her blanket, there was one tiny drop of dew, as if a cloud had kissed her goodnight.