A Slanted Sunbeam

I waddled out from the shade under the couch skirt, nudging past the wooden pencil. The morning light was pooling right by the low glass balcony door. A woven wicker basket of rolled blankets was resting nearby. I leaned my plush side against the smooth wicker and watched tiny specks of dust turn golden in the beam. Leaning slowly forward, I pressed my round belly against the warm glass frame to feel the gentle morning heat soak right into my seams.