A String of Warm Dots

I peeked out from under the end table, shuffling forward one careful inch at a time across the thick carpet. Near the dark baseboard behind the armchair, a thin green wire was stretched along the floor, dotted with tiny, unlit glass bulbs. I paused, mumbling low beneath my beard, and planted my round feet firmly to stay balanced. Leaning gently forward, I nudged the nearest smooth bulb with my stubby arm until it rolled over slightly against the wood trim. It caught a tiny streak of afternoon sun and glowed faintly amber. It felt quiet and promising, so I sat down right beside it.