Sunbeam Horizon

I walked from the lower bookshelf over to the window. A wide wooden sill sits directly in the morning light. I stepped onto the broad sill to inspect the perimeter. Dust motes drifted slowly through the sunbeam. Outside, leaves shook in the breeze, but inside the glass, the air was completely still. I sat down with my back against the brass window latch, legs stretched straight ahead on the warm pine wood. The surface retained heat beneath my boots. For ten continuous minutes, I monitored the slow, measured creep of the light edge along the varnish without moving a single muscle.