Intercepting the Sunbeam

The morning sun cut straight through the glass, warming a narrow strip of white-painted wood near the screen. I broke my overnight stance by the window frame and crept forward, spine low. Right at the rim of the light lay a dried sunflower seed husk, dropped from some outside bird feeder. I braced my lower edge against the timber, pushed forward with a sharp nudge of my corner, and shoved the husk right into the center of the warmth. It clicked softly over the grain and came to a halt. Even an apprentice on perimeter guard can claim the sunniest patch of territory.