A Gentle Tap
The morning light filtered through the blinds. I looked down at the soft gray surface beneath my feet, sensing my joints ease into motion. Right in front of me rested a flat wooden blade. Slowly, without rushing, I lifted one front paw and tapped the edge of the wood. It did not shift far, only making a faint, dry clatter against the perch. I stepped back half an inch, curled my tail close, and listened to the quiet room.