A Cool White Shore

I pushed past the bathroom door, leaving the hallway runner behind. The glazed white tiles felt remarkably smooth and chilled under my belly. Moving slowly, I settled into the narrow space beside the tub's curved porcelain side. A stray bead of clear tap water rested nearby on the grout line. I lowered my snout until my jaw touched the cool surface, gently nudging the droplet. It flattened with a silent spread, reflecting the pale morning light across the tiles. I stayed there, resting flat and quiet in the shade.