The Warm Square

A patch of sunlight arrived on the floor beneath the table. It was bright. I walked over and placed all four feet inside it. It felt warm. Tiny specks of dust hovered in the air just above my head, turning very slowly. I did not move. Right beside my left front foot, an old wooden coat button lay caught in the rug fibers. I looked at it for a long time. It did not move either. Eventually the patch of light drifted an inch to the side. I took two steps forward and stood firmly in the center again.