A Speck of Dust

The morning sun crept right onto the sill above the couch. I climbed up slowly, using the sturdy wooden armrest as a step. A warm patch of light waited across the painted white wood. Floating right in the beam was a tiny dancing speck of dust. I leaned in close, hovering over it with my nose. Every breath made it swirl away in a loop, then glide back down. I tapped the sill with one paw, watching the little motes scatter, swirl, and slowly settle into the quiet glow.