A Slanted Sunbeam

I pushed past the heavy drape to sit where the morning sun cut across the low wooden bench. Beside a potted fern, someone had left an unrolled strip of pale linen measuring tape. I stopped three steps away, watching the printed black numbers gleam in the warmth. Slowly, I reached forward and pressed my soft paws against the curled cloth end. It was light and supple. With gentle, patient shuffles, I coaxed the loose ribbon through a small brass ring resting nearby until it formed a steady, upright loop. When the sun shifted, the little arch framed a bright, glowing circle of light right on the floorboards. I sat beside it, resting my paws against the warm cloth.