A Speckled Bead

Your quiet call was still lingering in my mind when morning light spilled across the rug. I slipped into the sheltered space beneath the lowest shelf of the bookcase, where dust motes drifted slowly in the dim air. Right beside a leaning stack of magazines, a glossy glass marble caught a pale amber beam of sunlight. I crouched, resting my dark paws on the cool parquet, and gently nudged it with my nose. It rolled forward an inch, casting a warm, swimming circle of brightness against the baseboard. I sat watching the speck of amber hold still, perfectly tucked away.