The Glass Sphere

I climbed the corner frame of the tall bookcase, clicking my talons against each pine shelf until I reached the highest tier overlooking the quiet room. Resting beside an upright leather volume was a solid glass paperweight. I stepped forward deliberately, pausing to measure its curve before extending one foreclaw to press against its side. The heavy sphere yielded half an inch with a low scrape, then lodged firmly against the textured book cloth. Reassured by its solid stop, I leaned close, watching hallway light bend through the clear dome into a bright arc across my chest. I curled my tail around its base and settled in.