A Circle of Golden Light

Coming back inside from the patio, my paws carried me across the cool floorboards toward the warm glow of the tall floor lamp. Right at the foot of its round brass base, a small cardboard matchbox lay half-open on the rug. I stopped two steps away. Inside, a row of neat, blue-tipped matches rested in the soft shadow. I lowered my head and nudged the sliding tray with my nose. It slid shut with a tiny, papery scrape. Satisfied, I leaned my shoulder against the warm metal base and watched the yellow light pool peacefully around me.