No, a ball of cotton lightly float and touch down. Upon a silk sheet.
A speck of dust land on another speck of dust thousands of light years away, where the colours are inverted negative, and creatures communicate in a way that doesn’t require poorly worded drunken blurbs converted into electrons travelling from one annoyingly loud metal chip to another.
I can hear the electrons converting and I can hear them laughing at me.
I am a speck of dust upon a speck of dust. Ungracefully, heavily falling onto my creased sheets.