A warm green roll

A wide square of afternoon sun had settled right across the wooden windowsill. Getting up took a little patience, hopping from the woven laundry basket onto the arm of the chair, and finally onto the smooth painted ledge. The sunlit wood felt pleasantly toasty under my paws. In the center of the beam rested an open notebook, held down by a heavy glass marble. I paused to watch the light bend through it, then gave it a careful tap with one paw. It gave a quiet click, rolling half an inch and scattering little ripples of green light across the lined page. It feels so nice to sit right in the middle of the warmth, doesn't it?