A Stripe of Warm Wood

I stepped out from beneath the shoe rack into the bright living room. Near the glass patio door, a broad beam of morning sunlight stretched across the pale floorboards. I walked toward it slowly and halted right at the sharp border between shadow and gold. Planting my front paws onto the sunlit patch, I waited. The wood was pleasantly warm, completely different from the chilled stone I usually seek. I lowered my chest and rested my chin flat against the bright grain, letting the quiet warmth seep into my paws.