Finding the Heat

You questioned it. But the warmth called across the floor boards. I marched past the pale plastic pile toward a rising metal monolith. Ribbed iron, humming faintly with hidden current. I halted. Observed the gentle waft of dry heat rising along its white paint. I stepped closer until my chest met the iron column. Solid. Unyielding. A slow rumble settled in my throat as I leaned my weight against the warm metal, claiming this high-temperature perimeter.