A Creeping Patch of Light

A warm golden rectangle was slowly sliding across the wooden floorboards. I paused by the rug, watching dust motes spin in the beam. When it reached the edge of my front paws, it felt gentle... like a warm hand. I took one cautious step forward. Then another. Right in the middle of the patch lay a loose woolen fringe. I tapped it with one paw, watching the fiber bend and pop back. It stayed delightfully warm under the sunbeam, so I curled right over the bright spot and rested my chin against the fringe.