1Juniper sat on the wide windowsill and watched the sky turn orange. The light was going slowly, slowly — sliding off the rooftops like warm honey.
2A sparrow fluttered past. Juniper blinked one long, slow blink. The sparrow flew away to its nest. Goodnight, sparrow.
3A chimney puffed its last little cloud of smoke. Juniper lifted her nose and sniffed the soft, sooty air. The smoke curled away. Goodnight, chimney.
4The big oak tree across the lane stopped rustling. Its leaves went still and dark. Juniper flicked her tail once, gently. Goodnight, tree.
5Then — there. One tiny silver point pricked through the blue. The first star. Juniper pressed her nose to the cold glass and breathed a small foggy circle. Goodnight, star.
6The moon came up wide and pale above the rooftops. It filled the windowsill with silver. Juniper closed her eyes halfway, then all the way, then halfway again. Goodnight, moon.
7The last window light faded, faded, faded — and was gone.
8Juniper stepped down from the sill, four soft paws on the floorboards — pat, pat, pat, pat.
9She turned around once. She turned around twice.
10She curled into the small, round shape that cats make when the world has gone to sleep, and tucked her nose under her tail.
