Dreaming of Something Good

She fell asleep on the teal couch with her chin tilted up and her mouth curved into what I’m choosing to interpret as a smile. Whatever she’s dreaming about, it must be good. Treats, probably. Or birds.

That serene little face. The relaxed paws. Her tiny chest rising and falling so gently. I sat there watching her sleep for way longer than I’d like to admit. No regrets.