Sun on the Floorboards

I peeked out from under the heavy fringe of the armchair throw. A broad patch of afternoon sun had crept across the floorboards, warming the dark wood. I padded over slowly, testing the surface with one paw before sitting right in the center of the glow. Right beside me, a small wooden button rested flat against the grain. I nudged it gently with my paw, listening to the tiny, dry click it made against the oak. It didn't roll far, just settled into a seam between the boards, holding the heat just like I was.