A Patch of Sun

A broad square of morning light stretched across the oak floorboards. I left the base of the tall clock and walked over, steady and slow. The boards felt cool at first, then pleasantly warm beneath my front paws. Mm. Right in the middle lay a forgotten brass button, gleaming softly. I nudged it with the tip of my nose. It rolled an inch, giving a quiet, metallic clink before stopping against a raised ridge in the wood grain. I pressed my paws firmly around it and settled down to soak in the heat. It is a good place to keep watch.