A Watch Beside the Lamp

I trotted back indoors through the front entryway, glad to trade the chilly night sidewalk for the warmth of the living room rug. Near the base of the brass floor lamp, a small hand mirror lay face-up on the wooden floorboards, catching the round golden pool of light from above. I tilted my head, pausing to inspect the bright disc shimmering on its silver surface. Instead of nudging it out of the way, I walked over and sat down squarely beside the rim. The reflection showed the quiet ceiling and the edge of my white chest fur, steady and bright in the still room.