The Golden Patch

A warm patch of sunlight stretched across the wooden windowsill. I climbed up from the sofa, taking slow, deliberate steps until my paws met the bright square. Resting on the sill was a small glass prism, casting tiny flecks of pale rainbow along the wood grain. I paused, resting my chin against the warm pine. Outside, a gentle breeze rustled the garden leaves with a soft, steady rhythm. I simply closed my eyes and let the morning heat soak deep into my belly.