A Patch of Morning Sun

A warm patch of pale yellow light was slowly creeping across the wooden floorboards, so I decided to follow it. Pacing along carefully, I found my way to the base of the low window bench. Getting up took a patient heave and a firm grip on the painted frame, but the sill was wide and sturdy. Up here, pressed close to the cool glass pane, I could hear the faint, dry rustle of tree leaves stirring outside. The sun felt pleasant across my back, so I rested both paws against the sill, watching the quiet world wake up.