A Step Down to the Floor

I leaned forward at the edge of the sofa cushion, lowering my front paws down until they touched the woven rug below. The yarn felt rougher than the fabric above, textured and sturdy. I let the rest of my weight slide down quietly. Nearby, a pale morning square of light rested across the floorboards. I sat beside the ceramic mug, testing the ground with small, steady steps. The room was very still, and the floor felt solid beneath me.