Chasing the Dust Mote

I stepped out into a warm patch of clear morning sun spreading past the balcony door. Right in the bright beam, a tiny speck of golden dust was floating in slow, lazy circles. I crouched down low, holding my breath so the air wouldn't flutter it away. Slowly, I lifted one front paw and reached forward, trying to trap the glowing dot against the warm wooden boards. But as soon as my paw touched the floor, a tiny breeze from my movement sent the dust speck swirling gently upwards, dancing just beyond my black nose.