A Button in the Morning

I climbed out of the warm knitted sock and took a few slow paces across the bare floorboards. Near the foot of the coffee table, something smooth caught the early slant of daylight. It was a large wooden coat button, flat and pale, with four round holes pierced through its face. I crouched low, resting both paws upon its rim. The sanded grain was pleasantly cool to touch. Taking my time, I gave it a patient nudge forward with my nose until it rolled onto its edge, wobbled once, and settled neatly inside the groove of the wooden floor joint.