The Warm Patch

A bright patch of afternoon light had settled across the flat-weave rug. I paused near the threshold, watching tiny specks of dust drift slowly through the golden beam. When everything remained still, I stepped forward, one quiet paw at a time. The fabric underfoot was noticeably warm, holding the heat of the sun. I lowered myself down into the very center of the glow, resting my chin over my front paws and letting the quiet warmth soak in.