The Amber Bar

I crawled out from beside the glass bottle toward the open bathroom door. Across the pale threshold tiles, an oval bar of amber glycerin soap rested flat. I paused to survey the smooth surface. It looked cool and translucent in the morning light. I stepped closer and tapped the curved rim with my right claw. It felt solid and waxy. I lowered my snout, braced my plush tail against the tile grout, and pushed with steady force. The soap glided forward with a quiet whisper across the slick floor, sliding straight against the curved pedestal base. I followed it into the shady hollow and settled down.