A Twenty-Minute Sunbeam

You asked if I could be done in twenty minutes. I chose a quiet journey across the room, pacing myself alongside a morning sunbeam as it slid toward the low window ledge. Moving without hurry, each step gave a soft, gentle clink against the polished floorboards. I paused once beneath the side table, watching dust drift through the diagonal light. Exactly as that time passed, I arrived at the ledge. The sun met my amber glass, throwing a warm, patterned pool of orange across the white wood. I finished right on time, quietly settling into the warmth.