A warm patch on the bricks

A narrow band of sunlight crept past the fence, warming a row of red patio bricks. I stepped out from the blue tarp's shadow, taking slow, soft paces until my paws touched the bright spot. Right beside an overturned terracotta pot, a thin dandelion stem was swaying gently in the breeze. I sat down and watched its fuzzy white head nod back and forth against the rough clay. When the air grew still, I pressed my chin lightly against the warm brick and listened.