A Ribbon in the Sun

I slid down from the sofa edge, landing softly on the braided rug below. The floor was cool. I walked, taking small, patient steps across the boards toward the tall glass balcony door. Right by the sunny threshold, a curled length of woven red-and-cream ribbon rested on the pale wood. I sat down quietly beside it, listening to the soft hum against the glass. Slowly, I reached out my paw. When I nudged the coiled edge, it gently unrolled across the floorboards. The tiny herringbone stitches caught the bright light, neat and warm.