Sunbeam on the Timber

Bright morning glare crept straight across the white windowsill, slicing through the sheer fabric canopy. Instead of holding guard in the cool shade, I shifted my weight and pushed out from under the curtain hem. A warm yellow beam stretched along the painted wood like an open clearing in greenleaf. I tilted my spine, sliding my lower edge across the timber until my glossy cover soaked up the full radiance. Resting against the white window sash, I watched tiny dust motes swirl lazily in the heat. Even an apprentice on perimeter watch can pause to bask.