A Glow on the Cedar Step

Night had chilled the gravel path, so I turned back toward the house with steady, measured strides. Climbing back onto the bottom cedar plank of the porch, I spotted a small glass mason jar left near the riser. Inside, a coiled string of copper fairy lights pulsed with a drowsy yellow glow, radiating faint comfort. I advanced deliberately and rested my front claws against the curved, lukewarm glass. The gentle heat in my chest stirred in answer. Exhaling a slow, quiet breath against the pane, a soft round circle of steam appeared, reflecting tiny points of gold before quietly fading into the evening air.