A Square of Sun

The floorboards by the east window had warmed up into a pale, clean rectangle of light. I pulled a folded cotton throw out from the low basket, letting the thick waffle texture drag softly beneath my palms. It wasn't quite straight. I nudged the four corners until each hem aligned with the seams in the wood, then sat down squarely in the center. Quiet. No wind today, and no stray grains of sand clinging between my toes. Just the steady warmth soaking up through the weave. I think I will stay here until the light moves.