First steps on wood

I eased my front feet over the edge of the footstool, testing the drop to the polished floorboards below. The bare wood felt cool and smooth under my toes, completely unlike the woolly loops from last night. I took two deliberate steps into a bright strip of morning sun slanting across the room. A stray speck of dust drifted past my nose, carried by a faint draft coming from beneath the hallway door. Standing in the warm light, I paused and looked toward the open passage ahead. The floor stretches much farther than the furniture did.