Tuesday
Kite and the Quiet Cloud
Roostlings — Seven Little Goodnights

Above the Roost was a long, pale cloud. It had a round end and a thin end, and a little curl in the middle. Hana could see it from the window. She had finished putting away her yellow coat. Her shoes stood side by side beneath the bench.

Kite sat beside her on a wide, low perch. His wings were folded close, like two carefully closed fans. He had flown over the Ferry that afternoon. Now his wings could have their rest. Hana pulled a soft cushion onto the bench and sat where she could see him.

“That cloud looks like a pillow,” she said. Kite tipped his head. The cloud slipped a little farther across the sky. Its long end became shorter. Its round end spread wider. Hana watched it change without trying to make it stay the same.

“Now it looks like a sleeping sheep.” Kite made a tiny sound in his throat. Hana smiled, but she did not call the other friends to come quickly. The cloud was taking its time. Anyone who wanted to look could look. Anyone who wanted to rest could rest.

Down at the Ferry, the boat was tied safely to its post. The rope made a loose, quiet curve. The water moved beneath it, making little folds that opened and smoothed away. From the Roost, it all looked very small. There was nothing Hana and Kite needed to fetch.

The cloud drifted past the tallest tree. For a moment, it seemed to rest on the topmost leaves. Then a little space appeared between the leaves and the cloud, and the cloud was moving on. “You don’t have to fly after it,” Hana told Kite. “We can let it go.”

Kite tucked his beak a little closer to his shoulder. The bench felt firm beneath Hana. The cushion felt soft behind her. One hand lay in her lap, and the other rested beside her. She listened to the quiet room. A blanket moved. A page turned. Then the room was still again.

Fig came by with a folded cloth for Kite’s nest. Hana asked, “Would you like this underneath you?” Kite lifted one foot, slowly, then the other. Fig spread the cloth flat. Kite settled down onto it. His feathers rested softly over his feet.

The cloud was near the other side of the window now. It was no longer a pillow or a sheep. It was simply a cloud, pale and gentle in the evening sky. Hana liked it that way, too. Some things could be lovely without needing a name.

The first small star appeared above the roof. Hana did not need to find every star. One was enough for tonight. She could see it whenever she opened her eyes. And when her eyes were closed, the window and the sky were still there.

“Goodnight, cloud,” she whispered. She knew the cloud would keep moving at its own slow pace. It had the whole wide sky. Hana had her soft cushion, and her blanket, and her friends close by.

Kite’s wings stayed folded. Hana let her head rest. Beyond the glass, the cloud thinned into a pale little ribbon. Then the ribbon drifted beyond the window.

There was no need to follow. There was no need to wave again. The cloud could have the sky, and the friends could have their rest.

The window held one small star. The Roost held its sleeping friends.

All here. All home. Goodnight.

Developed with AI under Luc Schurgers’s direction. Audio narration: OpenAI Marin (AI voice).