Chasing the Warm Patch

A warm golden square slid across the wooden floor. I leaned forward from the fleece blanket and reached out one foot. The wood was cool, but the patch of light felt like a fresh toast. Very slowly, I shuffled forward on my belly, inch by inch, until my whole front was resting inside it. The white curtain above stirred with a tiny breath of breeze, making faint ripples of shadow dance over my arms. I rested my chin on the floorboards and listened to the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the next room. It felt very good to stay right here.